Christine
by Arwen1604
Summary: The Phantom of the Opera is alone; a broken man waiting for the never-ending solitude of death to claim him. Can one woman correct a horrible error and claim the man she truly loves before death does? Will Christine be too late? Complete
1. Track down this murderer

**Author's note: **Hi! This is my first ever fanfiction effort. I hope that those that read enjoy the story. I don't know how long this will end up, but I hope to make it a good sized fic. Please hit the review button at the bottom and tell me what you think. Please be kind!

_Disclaimer: No matter how hard I wish upon a star, I know that the Phantom of the Opera will never be mine. I write purely for my pleasure only. Thank you Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber_

This fanfiction will be based on the Movie and Leroux's novel. Just image Gerard Butler as the sexy Phantom! I will be kind to Raoul in this story, and I intend for Eric and Christine to end up together. The power is in my hands! EVIL LAUGH

And now, on with the story…

_Christine…_

The Phantom of the Opera. Opera Ghost. Angel of Music. He had been called all of these things, and more. Right now, the word murderer was swirling around in his head as the mob that had stormed the catacombs of the Opera House came closer to their goal of finding his lair. Did he want to survive? Escape the mob? He was kneeling on the floor, and could feel the cold, hard ground underneath him. However, everything else felt numb, and he felt detached from all the world. _Like that was something new_, he thought cynically. His music box was in front of him, and it played softly, as if only for his comfort. Comfort was a strange word for him. He had never known it. His mother had hated him from the moment that she had seen his deformed face. She had given him to the gypsies when he was six. He was poked and prodded by spectators that paid to see the "Devil's Child", and when he wasn't being stared at in repulsion he was beaten regularly. He didn't even have a name, although Madam Giry had decided that Erik was a good name for him. He thought on his only friend for a moment. Marie Giry was really the only reason why he wasn't dead right now, no mater how he wished right now for the release that death would bring. She had always been kind to him, helped him whenever he needed it. She had disapproved of his obsession with Christine. But she didn't understand. No one did! He just wanted to be loved, wanted to find his place in a world that hated him. _I have always thought myself a monster_, he thought bitterly, _but now I truly have nothing left. Christine is gone, I have lost her, did I ever have her, I have made too many horrible choices, if only I could go back!_ The thoughts flowed through his head quickly. Suddenly he was on his feet, watching Christine and the Vicomte slowly row away from him in his boat.

**You alone can make my song take flight…**

**It's over now, the Music of the Night!**

The words burst from him, surprising himself more than the tears that he could see on his Christine's face. Erik turned sharply, picking up a random object as he went. He started shattering the many mirrors that surrounded him. Why had he decided to have mirrors around him? He was a hideous, loathsome creature on the outside, and he realized, on the inside too. He shattered the lost mirror to reveal a secret room in his lair. _Can I hide? Do I want to? Do I deserve to live? _Erik thought desperately as his decision was made for him as he heard the splashing that signaled the invasion of his lair. He walked inside and closed the curtain. He huddled in the corner of the room, and waited with bated breath.

What was he to do now? He was empty; his soul had fled his body when Christine had left him to his solitude. Erik couldn't blame Christine. He was the way he was; he could make no apologizes for it, only beg for circumstances to be different. _Had I been born normal_, Erik thought desparately, _I could have won Christine's heart. She would have loved me, the world would have heard my music, I would have been happy!_ He suddenly could hear footsteps and voices all around.

"He's run away! The coward! He can hide in the shadows, but he can't face justice. Where is the Phantom of the Opera! We want him dead!" The man who spoke the words looked around wildly, as if expecting the Phantom to appear at his fighting words.

"Maybe he left. You know, we weren't exactly quiet as we came down." A young girl spoke this time. It was Meg Giry, Marie Giry's only daughter. "And look! I have his mask!"

The mob, which had been so loud and obnoxious, quieted at her words.

"What does this mean?" A stagehand asked anxiously.

"It means he's gone!" Someone yelled in the back.

The first man who spoke smiled with no mirth. "Well everyone, let's not let all these wonderful things go to waste and dust down here. Let's take what we want!"

At these words, Erik almost started out of his hiding place. He didn't want to see his only home destroyed. His music, his small meaningful possessions meant the world to me. _You were willing to trade them a second ago_, Erik thought bitterly. He knew he would have given anything for Christine to stay with him. But a part of him, albeit a small part of him, was glad that she had gone with the Vicomte. If she had stayed, she would be huddled in this small room, hoping that the mob didn't discover the room. He wondered for a moment what her presence here would do to him. _I wouldn't be able to think_, he thought wirily. No, no matter what he wanted, no matter how much he wished she could have stayed with him, the rational part of Erik's mind knew, without a doubt, that Christine would have everything her heart desired with a Vicomte as a husband. It was the best thing for Christine, even if it left him broken and alone.

"Hey I want that! I claimed it, I'm the leader." came a voice right from outside the curtain.

"Well tooooo bad! You should have been faster!" came a reply, to Erik's horror, right in front of his curtain.

"Ah a big shot, right? If you don't give that to me, I will make sure you see your dear mother in Hell!"

Two shots were fired in succession. The women in the mob screamed. Everyone surged forward. "We were here to find a murderer not commit one!" screamed Meg Giry, her eyes wide with shock. She was still holding the Phantom's mask. The mob surged upon the man left standing in the shoot out and grabbed him, ready to take him into custody.

The man turned, and said to the dead body, "Too bad that you missed!"

Erik, from behind the curtain, looked at his chest in shock as the blood started to pour from the small wound there.

"Ahh, but you didn't" Erik said softly, admiring the ironic nature of his situation as darkness rose to claim him.


	2. Monkey in Persian robes

Chapter 2

Monkey in Persian robes

**Author's note**: This will be a short chapter, but I promise to make up for it.

To mairzy: My first ever review! Thank you very much for your thoughts.

_Disclaimer: If I owned the Phantom of the Opera, then I would be too busy with the finer things in life to write! _

And now, on with the story…

Erik woke. No, that was too simple to describe it. He pulled against a tide that was pressing him down; it was difficult to even open his eyes. He felt like someone was sitting on his shoulder, telling him to give in to the sleep that his body so desperately needed. Erik was too stubborn to allow his body to dictate what he did. He had gone days without food and sleep; when he was caught up in his musical compositions he couldn't let petty things like nourishment and sleep bother him. He realized that he no idea where he was. All that he was aware of was the pain that was pressing against him with every breath. All of a sudden, he regretted wanting to die. Why had he tempted fate? Now faced with the ultimate, he found himself frightened.

He tried to rise from the floor a little, to survey his surroundings. Even this small movement caused him agony. Finally, the dream and the haze around him lifted, and he remembered what had happened. He looked around and saw that he was still located in the small room that he had hidden in when the mob had first arrived. _Well there's some good news, they didn't find me_, Erik thought sarcastically. He leaned his hand against the wall, and slowly rose from his sitting position. His hand found the wound that the bullet had made, and found that it was still bleeding. _Maybe I haven't been out that long_, Erik thought. He leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths. It hurt to move, to breathe, to think. He strained his ears toward the curtain, trying to catch any sound that might indicate that the mob was still there. All he heard was silence. Blessed, wonderful, _comforting_ silence. Erik emerged from the curtain, swaying a little. He had a thought, and glanced down at the floor of the hidden room. It was covered with blood. _His_ blood. Erik himself had spilled blood against men before, but had never had his hands covered with his own. It was a sickening feeling, facing one's mortality.

Did he deserve this? How many people had he killed? Christine… he had frightened her away when he had killed Buquet. Erik had no remorse for killing the womanizer. Buquet loved to drink, and it was only a matter of time before the drinking and the womanizing combined…and even though Erik was the Phantom of the Opera, he felt that he owed it to the people who worked and lived in his opera house a certain amount of protection. He would never have allowed Buquet to rape a member of his opera house, and when Buquet started tailing him during Ill Muto, he had seized the opportunity. Piangi was a different story. By that time, the only thing that Erik had cared about was getting on stage to perform _his_ duet with Christine. It was for them, and them alone! No one could stand in his way! Oh how now, at the end of things, he regretted his actions. He loved Christine, more than his life, more than his music. When he had killed Buquet, she ran to him, the Vicomte de Chagny. How he hated that meddling boy! The Vicomte comforted her, eased her fears and eased her away from him, her Angel!

Without Christine, Erik knew that his life was nothing. As he thought this, he felt himself grow weaker. Erik tried to ease back to the floor, but found that the floor rushed up to meet him. He felt a crunch, and then felt an explosion of pain that almost put him back into the velvet night of unconsciousness. Erik had landed on top of the broken glass from the mirror, and he felt that something might have been broken when he fell. _Well, no matter_, Erik thought, _I am about to die anyway. _His world was whirling about him, and his thoughts centered on one thing: he wanted to hear his music box one more time before he died. If Erik could hear the tune, he could die in peace. He crawled slowly toward where he had left it. Everything was mixed up, strewn around haphazardly. Erik smiled a little while crawling on the floor, as if his whole situation was cosmically funny. _Did I expect the nice friendly mob to leave everything in perfect order for the scary Phantom?_ Erik thought to himself. He still continued slowly on, ignoring the pain as best he could. He looked at his desk, and he almost cried with grief. All his music was strewn about, crumpled and some even burned from overturned candles. And worst of all, his monkey…was no where to be seen. _Ah well, that's lovely_, Erik said dreamily as his body took over his mind and blackness met his eyes.


	3. Christine's decision

**Chapter 3**

**Christine's Decision**

**Author's note:** This chapter is in Christine's point of view, and the events are taking place during the events of the previous chapters. I hope that you enjoy!

_Disclaimer: Me claiming to own the Phantom of the Opera is like claiming that I have Gerard Butler locked in my closet. (or do I?) EVIL LAUGH_

And now, on with the story…

Christine numbly joined Raoul on the gondola stationed in the middle of the Phantom's lair. Raoul immediately reached for her, and she leaned into his embrace, grateful for the support. She had never felt so drained, emotionally and physically. She turned slightly, looking from left to right about her, trying to memorize her surroundings. She wanted to save this moment; imprint it in her memory so she would never forget.

Christine remembered her first time to the Phantom's home. She had been petrified by the darkness surrounding her, but that was before. It was before he began to sing in his melodious voice; a voice that had always inspired her and captivated her. He had sung of the music of the night; and Christine had believed with all her heart. As she looked now, she could see the unearthly beauty of the night that she had once dreaded. Confusing and conflicting thoughts were running wildly through her being, and Christine turned her face toward Raoul's wet shirt. He hugged her, and she was content for a moment. She had so many emotions flowing through her head and her heart that she couldn't concentrate on what she should be doing at the moment, and she allowed Raoul to guide her. Christine closed her eyes and let her spirit soar, and she found that the embrace that she was sharing with Raoul was not the embrace she wanted…No- that was foolish. She couldn't want the Phantom to hold her as Raoul was holding her now. It didn't make sense! Christine abruptly pulled away from Raoul, and thought on the kiss that had sent her soul reeling into confusion.

The first kiss she had shared with her Angel had been fire and ice, love and hate, solitude and companionship. But the second kiss had been a shock to her. Didn't she only kiss the Phantom to save her fiancé? In that last kiss, she knew that she had given the Phantom a part of her that was never to belong to another man. She had poured her heart and soul into his own, and had understood his loneliness, his despair, and his love. In that moment, Christine would have done anything that the Phantom asked of her, anything at all. But all he had done was tell her to leave. The Phantom had sent her away. After all this time, just when Christine had finally figured out her true feelings for her Angel, he had brought the veil of confusion back again to cover her heart.

Christine grimaced. The pain in her heart only intensified when the Phantom appeared before her. He was distraught and disheveled. As Christine turned the corner with Raoul in the boat, she heard his angelic voice, filled with pain and anguish, cry:

**It's over now, the Music of the Night! **

Christine, in that moment, felt as though she had her soul ripped aggressively from her body. She had to return. She didn't care in that moment if the Phantom had sent her away, she didn't care if he had killed someone, she didn't care if the mob came and killed her; the only thing that she could understand was that she now knew that this man meant everything to her. Christine believed with all her heart that God had created a soul-mate just for her, and that all she had to do was find him. She had at first believed that the Phantom was her Angel of Music, sent by her father to protect her, guide her, and love her. Ever since she was seven years old, her Angel had came to her, guided the cultivation of her voice, and had been the person that she came to with all her childish problems. She remembered her first fight with Meg…

* * *

Christine ran into her small room, crying furiously. She flounced on the bed, and leaned against the headboard. She could not believe her best friend. How dare she say that she was making up her Angel?

Christine felt a soft breeze; it ruffled her dark brown curls. She lifted her head, and said:

"Angel, is that you? I…I…need you! Meg said some really mean things, and she's supposed to be my best friend, and she called me names in front of the other dancers and then I got in trouble and came here."

Christine said this as fast as her eight year old body could. She was out of breath, and gasped from the effort of talking and crying at the same time. When she didn't get a reply, she burst out:

"Well fine! Don't talk to me! I guess you don't like me either. Did you hear what Meg said? Do you believe her?"

Christine turn over onto her stomach, and put her head in her pillow

"Maybe I am alone…maybe everything is in my mind. Maybe my angel…abandoned me?"

"…I wish Papa was here…"

She felt the breeze again in her room, but this time she didn't raise her head. Her melancholy was overpowering. How could this small child carry the weight of such sadness?

"Christine…"

"Angel?" Christine asked timidly. She looked cautiously from her pillow, and noticed that the candles in her room had gone out. All she saw about her was darkness, but she was used to it. When ever her Angel came, the lights went out. Christine didn't understand, but right now she merely wanted to hear her Angel.

"Christine, I could never abandon you. Listen to your Angel. Dry your tears."

"Angel I was so scared, I needed to talk to you more than ever. Please, I need yo-" Christine started, talking very fast. Suddenly, Christine felt a finger press against her lips, quieting her. Her angel had never touched her before, and she found that the touch was very cold and smooth against her lips. She fell silent immediately.

"Hush child! Listen a moment. You will never be alone. I will be here for you as long as you want me to. I am there with you everywhere you go."

The Angel's voice was light and musical. It embodied confidence and love. Christine started to relax. Christine sat up on her bed and tried as hard as she could to make out the figure in the dark that she knew was there. It was as if the Angel knew what she was trying to do, and was purposefully keeping to the darkest corners of her room.

"Now, my dear, tell me what happened between you and Meg." The Angel's voice was soft and sincere, and Christine started talking at once.

"We were about to start practice with Meg's mother, and I yawned this huuuge yawn, and Meg was like, 'Why are you so tired?', and I was like, 'Because I was talking to my Angel last night', and then she got mad and said I was a stupid-head, and that Angels only talk to God and that I was just trying to be special and so I thumped her leg and she ran and told her mom and _I_ got in trouble and sent here." Christine spoke with indignation. She couldn't believe that she had been the one to get into trouble. She still could feel the lashes that Madam Giry had put on her legs. The Angel seemed to know this, too…

"Did Madam Giry…punish you, my dear? Did she whip you?" The Angel's voice had changed a little. He had a sense of urgency, and maybe…anger? Christine wasn't sure.

"Yeah, just a little. Two lashes across my backside. She said that no matter what anyone says to you, you can't hurt someone for it. I feel bad that I hurt Meg, but she hurt me first! I don't want her to be mad at me, Angel."

"My dear, everything will be fine. Tomorrow I want you to go to Madam Giry and say that you're sorry that you disrupted class. Tell Meg you're sorry too, and I'm sure that you can be friends again. You did the wrong thing, dear, but you will be forgiven."

"Angel, I'm sorry…you're not mad at me, are you?" Christine asked timidly.

"Of course not Christine! I could never be angry with you. However…I don't think that it's a good idea that you tell people about your Angel. Some people might get jealous, and you don't want to get into another fight with Meg, do you?"

"No, no no I don't want that…OK Angel, I'll keep it a secret."

"Good, good. I'll be your secret Angel"

"Secret and _strange _Angel!"

The Angel's warm laughter filled her head and heart, and Christine felt all the sadness drain away from her. She suddenly felt very sleepy, and she turned to lay back onto her bed.

"I love you, Angel." Christine said in a small, sleepy voice.

Christine felt herself starting to drift off to sleep, but then suddenly, in the darkness of her room, she felt her covers rise to cover her chin. She opened her eyes as much as the sleepiness would allow, and saw a tall figure over her. She was confused, and almost started crying again, when she heard her Angel's voice:

"Shhhh, my dear, go to sleep and dream of sweet, pleasant things. I will chase away your nightmares. Your Angel of Music is here."

Christine smiled. As she slowly drifted to sleep, she felt a sweet kiss on her forehead. She felt the telltale breeze, and when she peeked again, her Angel was gone…

* * *

He had cared for her for years. It wasn't until Christine reached the first age of womanhood that she began to notice a slight change in her Angel's manner with her. He was tender, affectionate, and became jealous so easily. When she first was taken down to his lair, when she first realized that after all those years he had been a man, a _Phantom_, she had felt betrayed. Worse, she had felt relief. Relief that the odd feelings that she had for her Angel weren't feelings for an angel, but feelings for a man. Was the Phantom, her Angel, her soul-mate? The music that had drawn them together was over now. Was that all there was? Christine knew the answer without much contemplation. She was drawn to him, and now she knew why. She loved the Phantom. Christine was no longer a child, and she now felt as if she had truly passed the point of no return. She had a decision. It was up to her to be happy in her life, and she was not going to let her love go to waste.

She woke sharply from her thoughts, and became acutely aware of where she was. Raoul had almost reached the landing of the Opera House. He pushed the boat as close to the edge as he could, and turned and offered Christine a hand. Christine took it, and stood, emotionless toward Raoul. Raoul reached for her, to embrace her, and Christine stepped away.

"I know this is not the proper place or time, but my heart will not let me take another step forward until we talk." Christine said suddenly. She looked Raoul straight in the eyes and saw the confusion and surprise there.

"Of course, Christine, anything." Raoul stated

Christine started toward Raoul, and then stopped abruptly, as if she had thought better of it. She merely looked at him and said:

"Raoul, I know that you love me-"

"Of course I do! Never doubt that for a moment!"

"No Raoul listen I'm trying to be honest and I know that-"

"Christine, you've had a horrible experience, maybe we should get you above ground, we can talk then…"

"Raoul, no! Just hold on for a minute."

Raoul seized forward and grabbed Christine's hand.

"Come my dear, we are going!"

"Stop Raoul. Damn it, won't you listen?"

Raoul dropped Christine's hand in shock.

"Christine…you just…"

"I'm sorry but I am no longer a child! You can't treat me like I am the same Little Lotte that you knew before. I have been through so much since then! Father is dead Raoul, and when he died, Little Lotte, the girl that you loved, died as well. You don't know me enough to know if you want to marry me. And I don't know you well enough…it could never work Raoul, and you know it. I am not the right type of girl for a Vicomte to marry. And don't say that it doesn't matter, because I know it doesn't to you, but I know alright? I have to follow my heart, and I can't marry you. I'm sorry."

Christine ended her speech a little shocked and out of breath. She stepped slowly back a little from Raoul. She dared to look up into Raoul's eyes, and she saw the pain…and the acceptance.

"You were very brave to tell me this. I know it must have been a difficult decision. I have asked too much of you, my dear Christine. But please know that I will always love you. You always have me."

Christine ran the short distance between them and hugged him tight.

"Please, help me find Madam Giry."

The both turned together and ran up the stairs, anxious to see the damage of the chandelier crash, and to find Madam Giry.

Raoul ran, leading Christine behind him. Raoul did not understand the true reason behind Christine's need to see her mother-figure. Christine had to return to her Angel, and Madam Giry was going to help her.

**NOTE: **Christine doesn't mention her Angel of Music to Meg again until she asks Christine about her "great tutor" in the beginning of the musical. I don't know if this will be significant later, but I just wanted to add it.

**To:** the.ingenue: I realized after I had posted the first chapter that I had gasp misspelled Erik's name. I can't believe I did that. Thank you for letting me know about it. I have corrected the mistake.


	4. Lost in the catacombs

**Chapter 4**

**Lost in the catacombs/Down once more**

**Author's note:** Don't think that I haven't forgotten the horrible situation I left the Phantom in Ch. 2, but I need one more chapter in Christine's point of view before I can make with the wonderful EC goodyness! I'm poking a little fun at Raoul in this chapter. Nothing too bad…Also, I thought that I would mention how I want you guys to see my Phantom and Christine. The Phantom is definitely Gerard Butler (he is soo cute!). I also like the idea of a perfect left side of his face versus the horror of the right side...and Christine has brown curly hair and brown eyes as she does in the movie/play. I can't see her as a blonde...But hey if you want to imagine them differently, then go ahead, that's just how I will descibe them when the need arises. Thanks for reading!

_Disclaimer: I…do…not…own…anything…_

And now, on with the story…

* * *

Christine was running through the catacombs of the Opera House, following Raoul closely. She wasn't quite sure why they were running. The adrenaline that was pumping through her urged her body forward. Christine had a vague sense of something, and it felt like a weight on her body. It was a feeling of dread and anxiety, and she couldn't place where it was coming from. All she knew was that she had been in the catacombs a long time, and she felt, for some reason, as if time wasn't on her side. Christine strained her senses, trying to pinpoint the reason for her feelings. The sounds around Raoul and Christine were still and lifeless, and the dim light from the torch that Raoul carried was just enough to allow them to see where they were going. All that Christine heard was the beat of their feet on the hard ground, and the pounding of her heart in her ears. Christine rounded a corner after Raoul and nearly collided into him. Raoul had stopped abruptly. 

"Raoul, what's wrong? Why did you stop?" The obvious questions came out of Christine's mouth before she had time to think.

"I…must confess that I don't really know where I am going." Raoul said in a sheepish tone of voice.

"What do you mean, 'you don't know where you're going?' I have been following you the whole time!"

"Well, I just sort of thought that I should naturally lead. I didn't think to ask you if you knew how to escape this labyrinth."

"Oh Raoul! Precious time has been lost! Of course I know a way out of this place. I have been here before." Christine was utterly exasperated with Raoul at that moment. He had obviously been trying to act like the protecting noble that he was, but he had just wasted at least an hour. Christine berated herself for not leading sooner, and turned to survey her surroundings, trying not to panic. _It'll be OK_, she told herself sharply, _just think_. _What would my Angel do?_ Christine knew that the first thing to go would be the torch.

"Raoul, douse the torch," she said urgently.

"Christine, that's crazy! If I extinguish the torch, then we won't be able to see, and then we really won't have an idea of where to go."

"Just trust me ok?...Don't look at me like that. Are you afraid of the dark?" Christine added the last as a bit of a joke, but was surprised when Raoul nodded.

"You're serious? Ok fine then, take the torch back up the last passage way that we came from and leave me here. I'll be fine, I just need to get my bearings. Come back in a few minutes."

"OK, but be careful Christine, you never know what lurks in the dark. There could be rats, or spiders, or…" Raoul's voice got smaller as he moved away, and for once Christine was glad to be left alone. Was it her imagination or was Raoul getting to be annoying? She shook her head slightly, and closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she was in complete darkness. Her Angel had always told her never to be afraid of the dark, and she was completely confident. She moved her gaze up and down the corridor, moving a little to observe the hidden nooks and crevices of the passage. She at last felt a small glimmer of hope run through her body as she spied, in a small narrow hall off the main passage, a glimmer of light. She hadn't been able to see it before. Christine hurried forward, and eagerly pressed forward toward the light. Her fingers found the crack that indicated a door, and she tried to find the hidden switch or something similar to open the door. With a faint crack that rang in her ears, the secret passage was revealed. Christine peered into the room. The faint light was coming from the top of a ladder, which was located in the middle of the small room. Christine could tell that no one had used this passage in quite some time. It was very dusty, dirty, and water was dripping from the top of the room. There was no way that they could climb this ladder without becoming absolutely filthy. Christine smiled in the dark. _Raoul won't like this one bit_, she thought with a laugh.

* * *

Raoul had thrown an absolute fit when they had emerged from the catacombs to one of the hall ways that the dancers used to get to their rooms. He had run into one of the bedrooms, and furiously tried to remove the filth that had accumulated in his hair, clothes, and body. Christine felt like she hadn't helped the situation much, because all she could do was laugh. She laughed, first off, at Raoul, who looked so funny with his red face and his disheveled appearance. She doubted that he had ever been dirty in his life; even as children he always seemed to be the only one able to keep the sand off when they were together at the beach. And second, and more importantly, she laughed because she was relieved and overjoyed to see that the fire had been contained to only the opera stage. The bedrooms, rehearsal rooms, and dressing rooms were safe as far as she could see. 

As Christine and Raoul walked together down the hall, a few heads poked out to see who was coming. At seeing Christine, several of the girls came forward and started asking her questions about the Phantom and what had happened after _Don Juan_. Christine was flustered. She didn't know what exactly to say. Suddenly, Raoul intercepted the dancers.

"Ladies, ladies, please, I will tell you what has happened. I was there, you know. I saw…_him. _As soon as Christine disappeared with the Phantom, I immediately went after her. I fell in this big hole, and nearly drown…"

Raoul voice was in story-telling mode. He had the girls' undivided attention, and Christine used this advantage to slip off to the end of the hallway. She took a left, and went straight to Madam Giry's room.

Christine hesitated at the door. She reached her hand to knock, but at that moment the door flung opened, and a hand reached up to grab Christine's. Christine was whirled about into the room, and she turned sharply to face Madam Giry.

Madam Giry had been like a mother to Christine, ever since she came to live at the Opera House at the age of seven. She looked after her, and Christine loved her dearly. Madam Giry rarely showed favorites, even her own daughter could earn her wrath, but Christine knew that tough love was sometimes the best. She was a stronger person for having to deal with the ordeals of the past, and she would have been weaker if someone had gone easy on her. Christine looked Madam Giry over thoroughly. She looked as if she had been crying. Madam Giry rushed forward, and hugged Christine tightly.

When she had let go, Christine said the first thing that came to mind. "How did you know I was outside your door?"she blurted out, and then blushed at her forwardness.

"Never mind, never mind. You're safe! Oh Christine, I was afraid that the mob had found you, that you were hurt…"

"You weren't worried about the fact that I had been taken by the Phantom of the Opera!" Christine said, her voice rising shrilly. Madam Giry just looked at her.

"My dear, I know that the Phantom wouldn't harm you. I was concerned for your safety in other ways, more important ways."

Christine stopped. The way Madam Giry had said that, coupled with what Raoul had told her earlier of how he had gained entrance to the Phantom's lair in the first place, made her say:

"You knew. You knew who my Angel of Music was. You knew that my Angel was a Phantom. How could you!" Christine's voice rose unexpectedly. "I have been so confused these past years, and the answer has been with you the whole time! My Angel…a living, breathing man…had I known, everything would have been different!"

"How Christine? Would you have understood the depths of his obsession? Would you have understood his pain and anguish? You stand before me now, not as a girl-child, but as a woman! There are things in this world that can never be explained. I don't know how things would be different, but I was trying to protect you! You had to be strong, strong enough to face the truth and know what it means. It's not enough to recognize truth if you don't accept it!"

Madam Giry, her face flushed, sat carefully in a seat by her bed in her room. She gestured for Christine to have a seat on the bed.

"Do you want to know the truth? Do you want to know what I know? If you do, then you must leave the childish delusions behind you. Banish them from your mind, and be prepared to hear how the world truly is."

Christine nodded. She looked into her guardian's eyes. Truth, love, and fear swirled across her face. Christine waited for her to begin.

"It all started when I went to a gypsy traveling fair in the city. I was but a young girl, living in the Opera House with dreams of becoming a ballerina…"

Christine sat in astonishment as Madam Giry told her the horrors that had been the Phantom's life. Madam Giry told her of the "Devil's Child", how people paid to laugh and gawk at a young boy of about twelve. She told of how the boy had killed his captor, and how Madam Giry had taken him and hidden him in the Opera House.

"I hid him from the horrors of the world. I knew what lay beyond the masks that he wore. I helped him as much as I could. I would sneak food from the kitchens, I would buy books of all types for him, and I tried to be a companion to him. We would spend hours a day finding new passage ways to discover, and soon we knew of every trap door in this opera house. I was proud of him. It wasn't until later, as my training to become a prima ballerina intensified, that I discovered his talent for music."

Madam Giry looked up at Christine, tears in her eyes. "He is a genius," she said softly, almost to herself. "He would listen to the orchestra practicing, and tell which instruments were off. He could tell the individual parts just by listening. He could compose music for a full orchestra before he was sixteen, and his compositions could move anyone to tears. He could pick up any instrument and learn before a day was done, but what was so…beautiful about him was his voice. His voice was that of an angel's. I use to beg him to sing to me…"

Christine broke in. "I know what you mean. It's almost as if you're the only person in the world; as if time has stopped for only you and…"

"Yes, this is all true. His voice gave him power, confidence. He was cursed, he would tell me often. And I agreed. Why would God give this boy such talents, and then let them go to waste? The world can never accept your Angel, Christine. And that, my dear, is when the sweet, abandoned boy became OG, the Phantom of the Opera. He had no regards for anyone, until…"

"Until I came. I gave him a purpose. He saved me, as I saved him. And then…"

"You pushed him away. But you cannot blame his actions on yourself. You are just becoming a woman. He asked too much of you…as did Raoul, my dear."

Christine blushed. "I have…rectified my error with Raoul. I know now that I will always love Raoul, but it is in a brotherly way, not romantic. I can't be his wife. But this is beside the point. Part of the reason why I am here is to ask for your help, Madam Giry. I need you to help me go back. I need to go back to me Angel. I lo-"

Madam Giry quickly interrupted. "My dear, before you say anything, please, _think_ upon what I have just told you about the Phantom. His whole life he has known nothing but pain. You have abandoned him once before when you accepted Raoul's engagement. And I don't presume to know what happened in his lair, but I can imagine that since you are here you made a choice. Are you quite sure you know what it is that you manipulate? What do you intend to do?"

Christine smiled, for the first time since Madam Giry had started talking.

"I intend to lead him from his solitude…"

* * *

Christine still sat on Madam Giry's bed as she gathered some things for their trip back into the catacombs. Madam Giry glanced at Christine, and smiled warmly. "My dear, are you quite sure this is what you want?" 

"Yes, of cour-"

Christine was interrupted by the door of Madam Giry's room being thrown open. A pale, blonde girl wearing men's clothing was standing there, out of breath. Madam Giry immediately went into mother-mode.

"Meg! What's wrong? What has happened? Are you hurt? You're shaking like a leaf!"

"Mother, I know that you're going to be mad at me, but I am so sorry. I didn't know what was going to happen; I just was so worried about Christine…Christine!" Meg had just noticed her best friend, standing behind her mother. She rushed forward, and seized her friend into a fierce hug. "I was…I thought that I would never see you again. That's why I went down…I wanted to find you-"

"Meg Giry! Please please please tell me that you did not go with the mob into the Phantom' lair!" (imagine your mom yelling at you and getting louder with every word)

"I just wanted to help! And the danger wasn't from the Phantom, it was from those crazy men! They started shooting at each other, and one's dead, and I found the Phantom's mask! He wasn't there; I don't know where he is. I was so scared Mother! I thought I was going to die!" Meg said all this really fast, and then slid to the floor and burst into tears.

"There there dear, everything is fine now. You're safe. Calm down." Madam Giry's words of comfort seemed to make a difference, and Meg silenced her self.

Christine stood to the side, an odd look across her face. "Are you sure that the Phantom wasn't there?" she asked quietly to Meg.

"Yes, I think I would have noticed him. The mob trashed his lair, it's in tatters."

Christine glanced at Madam Giry. "I still have to go…"

Meg opened her mouth in shock. "Christine, what are you talking about? This…_monster_…kidnapped you and killed two men! That we know of! How can you go back?"

Christine shook her head slowly at her friend. "You can't understand, Meg. I need to go there. I need closure in this part of my life. Madam Giry, if you want to stay with Meg…"

"No way Christine! If you're going back down there, then I'm going too!" Meg said. "I won't let you go by yourself."

"Meg, darling, _I_ am going with Christine. She will not be alone. Please, why don't you rest here for a while? You've had quite a scare…" Madam Giry said, trailing off as she saw the determined look in her daughter's eyes. "OK, fine, please then let's just go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get on with our lives."

Madam Giry looked at Christine. Christine nodded once, and said "Down once more it is!"

* * *

Madam Giry led the way as Christine and Meg followed swiftly. They reached the gondola in record time, and Christine volunteered to push. 

"Awww, it kind of looks like fun," Meg said, laughing at her friend, who was struggling to push the boat.

"Very…_huff_…funny, Meg," Christine gasped, glaring at her friend.

As they neared the entrance to the Phantom's lair, Christine felt the trepidation in her rise. She was nearly there. Suddenly, Meg and Madam Giry seemed to disappear, as she thought of the life that she could have with her Angel. She could marry him, she supposed. They could create beautiful music together. They could have…children. As the thoughts rushed through, she blushed. Just thinking about the Phantom's strong arms around were enough to add heat to her cheeks. She needed to keep her mind on the matter at hand.

Christine turned the corner. She passed through the gate, which was still raised with her and Raoul's escape. She looked around the once magnificent lair, and discovered, with disgust, that Meg had been indeed right when she had said that they had destroyed the Phantom's home. But what stopped her was a figure lying face down beside the Phantom's desk. Christine's eyes widened in surprise, and before she knew what was happening, she had jumped from the boat and was wading toward the shore. Meg's and Madam Giry's cries were but echoes to her ears. Her whole being had but one purpose: reach the man lying in his own blood. She fell to her knees, sobs racking her body. She knew who laid here; she knew without a shadow of a doubt. The once imposing Phantom had been reduced to an almost diminished man sprawled on the ground in a slight fetal position. Christine screamed for Madam Giry. Her hands began their search for the cause of the blood as fast as they could. Madam Giry came at once.

"Dear God! We must turn him! We must get him on his side!"

"Madam Giry, we're too late! He's gone, he's dead, I am too late…"

Christine felt a sharp sting across her cheek. Madam Giry had slapped her.

"Snap out of it girl, or he will be! He has a pulse, a weak one. We must find the bleeding, we must stop it…"

Meg, who was staring in horror at the spectacle in front of her, started walking forward toward her mother, trying to help in anyway. She tripped suddenly, and kicked an object out of the way. A slight tune now filled the silent air; it was a music box that she had kicked.

**Masquerade…paper faces on parade…Masquerade…hide your face so the world will never find you… **

The wordless tune floated over every inch of the lair. Christine looked quickly into her Angel's face, hoping that the music brought forth some sort of reaction. To her shock, the Phantom opened his blue green eyes, and looked directly into Christine's brown ones. He smiled, and reached up a hand to gently touch one of Christine's curls.

"Ahhh, there's my music box…" The Phantom's words were but a whisper. The Phantom smiled again, and then closed his eyes. To Christine's horror, the Phantom's hand dropped, lifelessly, from her hair. Christine could see the Phantom take a breath. And then,…nothing.

Now the lair was filled with Christine's raw, anguished voice

**NOOOOOOOOO!**

**Note:** I don't pretend to know a lot about medical stuff, so please be kind.

**Note #2:** Elwen of Imladris: Thank you for your review. This is my first ever fanfic, and I don't expect a lot of reviews, but thanks for the confidence boost!


	5. Erik's decision

**Chapter 5**

**Erik's decision**

**Author's note: **Why am I so mean to my poor, misunderstood Phantom? EVIL LAUGH Well I hope that this chapter is a good one. I am going to switch back and forth between Erik's and Christine's point of views in this chapter; Erik's might be a little hard to understand, I'm going for an abstract idea here. Hopefully my muse won't run out on me…If you have any suggestions for the story, please review! And thanks to those who have already!

**NOTE:** Christine does not know that the Phantom's real name is Erik…he never told her, and Madam Giry doesn't think it's her business to say.

_Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera belongs to me! HAHAHA! Oh and I am also a compulsive liar…_

I would also like to do my first ever chapter dedication to Elwen of Imladris. Thank you so much for your encouraging and kind words. I do hope you like this chapter…

And now, on with the story…

* * *

Erik felt himself floating. Or maybe falling? He couldn't be sure. He just felt like a huge amount of strain and pressure was being lifted off of him. Did he feel any pain? No-it was _wonderful_, no intense pain, no pressure in his lungs, not even that faint pain in his hands when he played too long…This was…_nice_. Erik didn't know where he was, but he immediately liked it better than where he had been. He felt warmth against his face; his entire face…Wait! Erik reached up to touch his face…and was shocked to find that his mask was gone! But wait…where were the scars? Where were the angry red whelps that had marred his face his whole life? They were simply…_gone_. Erik let out a gasp, then a scream of joy that seemed to shatter the dream world that he was in. He looked as his body, and realized, with a shock, two things: one, he wasn't standing on anything-he truly was floating in a sea of whiteness. The second thing was a bit more shocking…he had no clothes on. No mask, no shirt, no pants, not even socks. But he didn't feel expose, he didn't feel cold…he felt nothing. Nothing but the warmth that was spreading throughout his body. It reminded him of his first kiss. Kiss…that first kiss hadn't been too long ago, right? Erik could remember the warm tingly feeling that the kiss had left with him, but he couldn't remember who he had shared it with…_Who would want to kiss this carcass, a living corpse_…Erik thought roughly. But in this place, it didn't seem to matter that he was a broken man, or that he couldn't remember much, or that his unholy face was pure and beautiful. This was the oddest thing he had ever experienced in his short 35 years. (I don't know how old the Phantom truly is…so in my story he'll be 35. Sorry) That's when it hit him. Perhaps this place wasn't just inside his mind. Perhaps, now, he floated in the middle of life and the afterlife. This was a disbelieving moment in Erik's life. He had always denied that there was a God, citing that a God wouldn't make a creature as repulsive as he was. Why would God put a man like him on the Earth, to go where none wanted him, to see the beauty around him and never touch it…Now, it seemed, Erik had made a fatal error in judgment. Maybe if he could remember what had happened…

His normally sharp, clear mind seemed hazy. It was like his mind didn't want him to remember the last moments of his life… He remembered falling by his desk, and he remembered hands turning him to his side-they were small hands, hands of women…but why would women be in his lair after the mob came and went? It didn't make sense. What else could he remember? Erik thought of his music box. He had finally heard it…and didn't he make a deal with himself that all he needed was to hear his music box one last time before he let himself succumb to death?…it seemed that his body had held him to that promise. But there was something else…no not something, but someone! But who? It was shocking and relieving at the same time, to look upon this face as he died. Erik remembered reaching up to touch the soft, velvety brown curls…who did they belong to? Why couldn't he remember? It was as if his mind knew that if he had this knowledge, that something would change, be different in some way. Wait…what was that? There was an echo of a scream, and it was vibrating through Erik's mind… _That voice…I wonder what's wrong_, Erik thought carefree. The voice wasn't important, his mind whispered. Just move forward. _All right, I will_, Erik told the voice, not thinking it strange at all to have a voice in his head. Especially since he himself had been the voice in Christine's head for so long…

CHRISTINE!

Erik jerked abruptly. Every memory, every moment with his brown-eyed angel surged through his mind. The barrier was gone; he knew her every feature. He had drawn her, painted her, and sculpted her until he had memorized every eyelash, every freckle…and now he saw again the face that he gazed upon before he died, the voice that was ripped in anguish, they belonged to her…and it was because of him that she was miserable. Erik couldn't move on! He had to go back to her, had to be with her, she had returned to him…

But wait…what happiness would he be able to give to Christine? What kind of life could he give her? Hiding in darkness, away from prying eyes…Christine deserved more than that. She deserved to be in the light. Erik wanted her so badly that the pain that had left him returned full force. He couldn't go back. He would press forward, into the light. He did this for her…

But then…what was that he heard?…

_Angel, oh God, Angel, please don't leave me…Fate is cruel, I know…Grant me this one wish…Bring back my Angel…Father…Help me…Angel, I love you…_

_Come to me, strange Angel…_

Erik grinned. _Well, that settles that_…he thought wirily. He was going to give up everything to gain everything in return. He looked about again, staring into the light, trying to preserve this moment into his memory, knowing that when he stepped from the light he would be returned to his true form, that of an angel trapped within a monster…His hand went hesitantly to the right side of his face, relishing the joy that feeling smooth skin gave him. Could he give it up? _'Angel, I love you'_ repeated in his mind. He immediately turned from the light, his decision made, and was surprised to find the darkness there to greet him. _Ah, just how I like it_…

* * *

Christine sat motionless beside the Phantom's still body. It had been a mere minute since he had taken his last gulp of air, but it felt like an eternity to Christine. Tears were streaming down her face, but she tried to be strong. She had to help, as much as she could, but right now she felt utterly useless. Madam Giry had taken charge. She had found the gunshot wound in the Phantom's chest, and had been somewhat relieved to discover a twin wound on his back. This, she explained to Christine, was good, it meant that the bullet had went straight through the Phantom's body; it was not lodged anywhere within. Madam Giry told Christine that they were going to perform something called CPR on the Phantom. But first, they had to stop the bleeding wound in his chest.

Madam Giry had instructed her daughter to find something they could press against it, something soft and durable. Meg went into the bedroom area, and came back with a pillow and some of the Phantom's shirts. The shirts were slashed and used as make-shift compresses, and the pillow was placed under the Phantom's head. Madam Giry turned the Phantom onto his back, and began pumping air into his lungs. Every so often, she stopped, and Christine rose from her position to blow air through the Phantom's lips. Each time she did it she felt that she would die as well…the last time she had kissed those lips, they had been full and warm and inviting. Now they were cold and unresponsive.

Christine could tell that Madam Giry was getting tired. She didn't know how much longer they could keep this up. The adrenaline was fleeing Christine's body, and she knew the same to be true for Madam Giry and Meg. As another minute ticked by Christine finally burst out:

"Angel, oh God, Angel, please don't leave me! Fate is cruel, I know! Grant me this one wish! Bring back my Angel!" She yelled the words as loud as she could. The echoes were all around, and for a moment Christine felt that maybe God and her Angel could hear her…

"Father, help me, please" This pleading cry was softer; she couldn't think of anyone else to turn to.

Despair was starting to settle over Christine. She would have to live with her decision to leave her Angel for the rest of her life. Christine leaned forward to her Angel's ear, and whispered the words for him alone:

"Angel, I love you!"

_Come to me, strange Angel… _Christine was silent. Would her Angel respond? He had somehow always known exactly what she was thinking…would he know now?

Madam Giry looked at Christine.

"One more breath, my dear. One more. We have done all we can…" Madam Giry's voice was strained and sad. She surveyed Erik one more time…he had lost a lot of blood; she didn't know how long he had been unconscious when they arrived; and she knew that the time had come to let the peace that Erik found in death claim him completely. She didn't want to give up…she wanted Erik to live! But she knew…he would go to a better place.

Christine did not respond to Madam Giry at all. She simply reached down to give her love one last, lifesaving kiss…

Christine kissed the Phantom's lips. She filled his lungs with all the air that she could…but she knew it wasn't enough. Pulling her lips away from his, she closed her eyes and said goodbye to her Angel. When she opened her eyes again, she was staring into a pair of hypnotic blue-green eyes that were piercing their way into her soul. She was absolutely captivated by his eyes. They flickered slightly, and then returned in full force to stare into Christine's. Christine backed away slightly. She lifted her head to Madam Giry's. Madam Giry was astounded. She leaned down over the Phantom to see for herself. The Phantom's eyes never left Christine's. Was this possible? Christine was absolutely shocked. Was he ok? Christine saw the Phantom crack a small smile.

"Nice…to see you too,…Christine. I'll need…a wake up call…like that…every morning."

Christine was overjoyed! She had never felt such a happiness before in all her life. Her body moved instinctive towards her Angel's, and before she knew what was happening Christine was kissing him, hard, on the lips. This time, the lips were full of life and warmth, and they responded to her kiss by deepening it. Christine was now aware of only her Angel and herself…

"Ahem…Christine!" Madam Giry's voice pierced through the mist in Christine's brain that the kiss had put there. "He almost died. Give him a moment to catch his breath before you take it again."

Christine blushed profusely. She looked down at her Angel. His eyes still focused on her's.

"Are you a dream…or am I still dead?" The Phantom's tired voice rose in the silence of the lair.

"I'm real, Angel. I'm here, and I am never going to leave again," Christine said firmly.

"Christine…my name…is Erik."

Erik. Her Angel, her Phantom, had a name…Christine liked the way it sounded in her mind. She said it out loud:

"Erik…Erik, I love you!" Christine watched as Erik's eyes widened at the use of his name and at the declaration that Christine had made, and he smiled slightly. Christine reached out and brushed a piece of Erik's hair away from his eyes. The tenderness was there between them both. They would never part again.

* * *

Madam Giry cleared her throat. "Christine, he's not out of the woods by any means. We have to disinfect and bandage all the wounds. If he gets an infection, it could lead to fever. I don't know how we're going to do this…"

"I'll help!" Meg exclaimed suddenly. "I can come down here whenever I get a moment. Christine can stay pretty much the whole time; we can say that she needed some time to gather herself after everything that has happened."

Christine looked at Meg in shock. "Why-"

Meg answered matter-of-factly: "Because you love him, silly. I may not understand everything, but I know what kind of person you are. If this is the man for you, then we can't just let him slip away!"

"Well…now that we're…done deciding…my fate…," a weak voice rose up from the floor, "how about…finding a way…to get me off…this floor…"

The three girls looked at each other quietly. In their minds and hearts they made a promise to each other. They were going to save this Phantom, no matter what. Seriousness aside, Christine looked around wildly.

"How in the world are we going to do that?"

**

* * *

**

**Note: CharmedLeoLvr: Thank you for your review! I hope that you like the coming chapters! I won't give up on this story; I couldn't leave you hanging…**

**DarkFire77: I did as you commanded…;) **


	6. The Phantom of the Opera returns

**Chapter 6**

**The Phantom of the Opera returns…**

**Author's note:** For the first half of my chapter, I'm going to come through with a little of Meg's perspective. I don't know a lot about her character, but I gather that she's a bit of a gossip, and I can imagine her with many friends…I hope you like my interpretation… Thanks for reading!

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, but I do own Harry Potter! (oh wait, that's not right either…)_

**Note:** Mystery Guest- Wow, thanks for that great review! I appreciate your comments; I want to become a better writer. I had intended to address those questions of sincerity and why Christine really returns to Erik in later chapters. Just hang in there with me, my friend. I will work on my language, and I just added a few off the wall comments to make my Phantom more sarcastic and believable. He _is_ my favorite character, but he's also the most complicated…

**And always**: Thank you Lin! Your reviews always make me smile!

And now, on with the story…

* * *

Underneath the Opera House, past the catacombs and trap doors, past the mist and lake, past the large iron gate, a large, spacious lair had been the home of the Phantom of the Opera for twenty years. On first entry, one might notice the candles that emerged lit from the water surrounding the Phantom's home…or the magnificent organ that was littered with pages upon pages of musical notes. On this visit, however, one saw the once magnificent lair in disarray; things were scattered and missing, music was crumbled and burned, and all the Phantom's mirrors had been broken. Also…one saw… 

"Good gracious, could you weigh anymore? I mean honestly…I think that my back is breaking…"Meg grunted and complained as she trudge forth with half of her body positioned firmly underneath Erik's left arm. Meg had talked nonstop throughout this whole ordeal. Meg knew she was starting to get annoying, but when she was in a silent place, she had to…talk! It was just natural.

Erik was slowly walking toward the bedroom area of his lair, and Meg and Christine were there with him, trying to support him as he walked.

"Meg!…just think if we would have had to carry him over to the bed instead of support him…I don't think it would have been possible!" Christine gasped out a response to her best friend. She didn't want to think of the amount of effort it had taken to get Erik off the floor moments earlier. She would be glad when Erik would be safe and comfortable in his own bed.

"I…can still…do that…you know…Suddenly…my strength seems…to be failing me…" Erik's voice was tired and strained, but both girls could hear the dripping sarcasm in it. It seemed that no matter what type of situation the Phantom of the Opera found himself in, his dry humor and sarcasm could always be expected. He also seemed to be in a rare mood. He was actually, well, _nice_ to someone other than Christine or Madam Giry. "Meg, you should…be grateful…you get to be…on my good side…"

At this, Meg found herself looking up at Erik's face. _He's right_, she thought, _I do have the good side_…_he's very handsome_. Erik suddenly leaned down a little to meet Meg's eyes, and he smirked to himself. Meg immediately diverted her eyes from his face. _Did he know what I was thinking!_ Meg calmed herself. _No no, it was just my overactive imagination._ Erik noticed her discomfort and he let out a small laugh.

"Why so silent…Meg? Silence is not…something to expect…with you…"

"I just feel…like we need to hurry up and get you to the bedroom. I think that I may never dance again!" Meg let out a little laugh of her own, to hide her slight embarrassment. This was a unique man, she thought suddenly. He was different from anyone else she had ever known. Meg was normally very good with meeting new people; she always seemed to warm up to strangers, and strangers soon became fast friends. She knew now that this man would be the challenge of her life as far as friendships go, and now she wondered blindly how in the world Christine had been able to break down the cynical and sarcastic barriers to find the true man within…_Music_…the answer popped into her head as quickly as the question, leaving her for a moment confused…did she think that, or…wait there wasn't another option. Of course she had thought it. And it was right too. Music could convey more emotions than any spoken word; it could project emotions into your very soul…Meg remember the performance of _Don Juan_; she had actually felt the lusty, sinful feelings that the music seemed to inspire.

"Meg Giry! If you helped half as much as you complain, then Erik would already be in bed! You ought to know some discipline by now!" Meg's mother's voice broke through Meg's thoughts. Madam Giry stood beside the swan bed. She had readied the bed as best she could, propping pillows up so that Erik might have a more comfortable position.

Meg opened her mouth to respond, an indignant look spreading over her pale features, when Erik reached his hand up to Meg's blonde hair and pulled slightly.

"Ouch! What did you do that for!" Meg yelped in surprise.

"Two reasons…one, you shouldn't…argue with your mother…and two,…she might throw…you in the lake…"

Erik glanced up at Madam Giry's face as he spoke. He wondered if she remembered what he was talking about. Sure enough, a look of surprise and horror crossed her face

"Erik! That was an accident! And it was long ago…"

"It wasn't…an accident. You did it…on purpose." Erik baited her.

"Well, I never! How was I supposed to know that you couldn't swim!

"Oh yeah…I got _so_ much experience…with the gypsies…"

Meg was watching the exchange between Erik and her mother intently. It had never occurred to her that Erik would have known her mother from her teenage years. They were obviously teasing each other, but when Erik mentioned the gypsies, both he and his mother fell silent. Meg glanced up at Erik in time to see a brief flash of pain cross his features.

Christine was shocked by Erik's reference to his past. She concealed the surprise on her face, and looked directly into Erik's eyes. Yes, there it was. The barrier. It had seemed for a moment that Erik was finally opening up, but Christine could tell now, by the stiffness of his body, and the set expression on his face that he had closed himself off again. He was becoming "the Phantom", and she knew that he wouldn't stand for their help much longer. Lucky for her, they reached the bedroom area before he could try and disengage from their support. Meg clearly wasn't paying attention; she ran solidly into the side of the bed. The movement stirred Erik, but he made no noise to indicate that he had been hurt. Christine grimaced to herself. This was going to be very difficult indeed.

Christine glanced at Meg, who was now rubbing the side of her leg in annoyance.

"Meg, are you OK?" Christine asked with concern in her voice.

"Yeah, just tired. I'll be glad when I can go back up to my room and catch some sleep." Meg helped Erik into a sitting position on the bed. Erik leaned back and closed his eyes.

"You and me both, kid," Erik said without opening his eyes.

"Erik, do you feel any pain? Do we need to shift your position? Are you hungr-"Madam Giry entered her mother-mode as quickly as she had with Meg. Erik interrupted her.

"Marie, I'm fine. You don't have to mother-coddle me. I just need some rest. In fact, I think that I will be able to sleep much better if I didn't have three women around me trying to smother me" Erik snapped. Ah, _there_ was the Phantom. He had returned, and was apparently in full temper. Erik just wanted everyone to leave him alone. He felt so much better now that he was in a comfortable position; he could breathe easier, and the pain was lessened.

Christine's eyes never left Erik's face. She knew that he was putting on a brave front; not wanting to seem weak in front of her and her adopted family. She leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"You've been through a lot, Angel. You really do need rest…will you be ok in here, by yourself? I need to go up to my room and pick up some things. I won't be gone too long."

Erik tried to hide the relief in his face, but did a poor job. He nodded at Christine.

"What did I just say? Take as long as you need, my dear. I'll still be here when you get back. I'm not going anywhere."

Meg could hear the bitterness and sarcastic tone of his voice, and immediately knew that Christine wouldn't want to leave him after a response like that. She was therefore very shocked when Christine nodded and motioned for Meg and Madam Giry to follow her out. Christine closed the veil over the bed, and Meg could see that Erik appeared to already be asleep.

The tired group walked toward the boat. Meg and Madam Giry got into the boat, and Meg reached up to help Christine. Christine just smiled.

"Men are so predictable. I can't leave him. I'll stay, and look after him. He may not think he needs me, but he needs _someone_."

Meg looked at her best friend's determined expression. Meg broke into a huge smile.

"Well, good luck convincing him of that!"

"My dear, we will come back as soon as we know we won't be missed. We'll bring back the things that you need." Madam Giry said firmly. She eyed Christine's dress. "What _is_ that you're wearing?"

Christine glanced down at her ruined dress. It was the dress Erik had made her change into…it was a wedding dress. Emotions started running through her head. She hadn't even begun to think clearly upon all the events that had happen; all she was certain of was one thing. She loved Erik, and she knew that eveything else would have to work out…Christine traced her finger around a large rip in her sleeve.

"It does look like I could do with a change of clothes, doesn't it?" Christine tried to laugh, but her feelings betrayed her. "I…just feel bad that I ruined my dress," she said awkwardly.

Madam Giry decided not to press the issue. "Goodbye, Christine! All will be well, you'll see."

"Goodbye, my friends! I don't know how I ever will repay you…" Christine said, becoming a little teary eyed.

"Nonsense, my dear, you are family! We will have our eyes and ears open if you need anything before we return…" Madam Giry said, and with that, Meg pushed off to steer the boat toward the other side of the lake.

"Christine!"

She turned sharply, and just in time to see an object being thrown at her. Christine instinctively grabbed for it, and discovered it was Erik's mask. Christine glanced up at Meg, who was grinning at her.

"Just in case…you know he'll ask for it…"

Christine watched them turn the corner of the lair. She then turned to survey the damage and chaos around her. She tried to look on the bright side. _At least the mob took their dead body with them when they left_, she thought.

**

* * *

Author's note 2: All right! Now Christine and Erik are _alone_. How will Erik feel? I wasn't really happy with this chapter, but I needed sort of a transition into my next angle. The next chapter will be all about Erik and Christine-and I don't intend on their relationship to be fairy tale perfect. You'll see in the next chapter. Thanks again to all the people that take the time to read my story. I love to write, and you guys are definitely giving me a confidence boost. :) **


	7. Why can't the past just die?

**Chapter 7**

**Why can't the past just die?**

**Author's note:** Christine and Erik have quite a lot to work out, and hopefully most of it will be aired out in this chapter. I wanted to try and add a little realism to their relationship. These two people, in my opinion, are meant to be, and so they have to work out the kinks before they both can truly be happy. Also, I have been asked how many chapters this story will be. The answer is that I haven't figured that out yet. My ideas come in block form, and I have to sort it out and make the chapters like that. I don't anticipate many more chapters though…I want to find a perfect stopping point, and then maybe…a sequel? I don't know yet. What do you guys think?

**And to Liniya**: How would you like it if in the coming chapters I explore the Phantom a little more? I hadn't really thought to go deeper into the Phantom's past. Tell me what you think.

_Disclaimer: The odds of my owning the Phantom of the Opera are about the same odds of me being cast as Christine in the Broadway musical…zip, zilch, nada, zero, none, and so forth._

_Disclaimer Part 2: The song used in this chapter is called "No One Would Listen", and it's off the special features disc of the Phantom of the Opera DVD. If you haven't heard this song, please please please find some way to listen to it. It broke my heart the first time I heard it..._

And now, on with the story…

* * *

As soon as Erik heard the boat begin to move across the misty lake, he relaxed. The façade that he was building up slowly dropped as he realized that the three women who had saved his life truly had done what he requested. Erik leaned back against the bed, and sighed quietly. He was a little disappointed, to be honest. He hadn't expected Christine to leave so soon without a fight. He closed his eyes, and willed the flood of emotions that he knew was building up to stay put beneath his cool exterior. It was too much; and suddenly, all the doubt and anger, hurt and betrayal, pain and anguish swam before his eyes as he thought of Christine. _Christine_…didn't he come back because she asked it of him? Didn't he give up some sort of Heaven, a place where his abhorrent face was the same as everyone else's…Isn't that all he wanted? To be normal? Why had he come back? The anger was building sharply through him, adrenaline rising to match the heaving of his chest. 

_She left you!_ His mind screamed over and over again, all logic forgotten. Erik buried his face in his hands as the voices in his mind took over. _She promised herself to another man, right in front of you! She is a viper, she is manipulative, she doesn't love you! She doesn't know what she wants! This is some kind of ploy, or jest…you are a monster here! She can't see past your face…_

"Why…why, Christine…oh why!" Erik said softly to the shadows. He would give up anything, and everything, to hear her say his name, to hear her sweet voice, to feel her smooth touch against his cold flesh…He had given up Heaven. The realization built in him at this thought. He was still a broken man. The trust was gone-had he ever had it? When had he forgotten that the world hated him, that the world would never accept him? He remembered exactly…It was the first time he had peered through the chapel stain glass and saw the small child of seven, crying for her father to send her an Angel of Music. He smiled at the memory…he knew that he could make this girl happy; he felt like this little girl needed him. He had never realized that by becoming Christine's Angel he would be saved from his solitude, that he would know love; he felt that he had received his soul through the unconditional love of his Christine…

But this was something different. Christine was a grown woman now, and free to give her love of her own choosing. Erik felt foolish for ever thinking that Christine would willing forget the world she knew and choose to be with him. The anger was growing again. Damn, he was a fool! When had he become so weak? Christine was merely a woman, there were thousands of women in Paris…why was she so special? Why did she have a power over him? _Because you let her_…the angry voice in his head had become pitying, and that enraged Erik more. _You let her through, she saw the real you, she saw your soul…you can't be the Phantom of the Opera if someone knows your torments and your tears…_

"NO!" Erik screamed. He looked about wildly, believing for a moment that the voices in his head were real, and that if he looked hard enough he could wrap his hands about a throat to stop the voices…It was at this moment that Christine came running toward the bed. _Damn that lying Delilah! She hadn't left!_ Christine lifted the veil around Erik's bed, and was immediately at his side.

"Erik, what's wrong? Why are you so upset?" Christine asked calmly and intently. She looked straight into his eyes, and was shocked to find them bright and mad. What was going on?

"You Christine. You will plague me 'til my death! You brought me back, and now what do you intend to do? I was happy! I was alone, but I felt no pain…tell me now: What is it you want from me!" Erik's voice rose out above the lair. The turmoil and anger in his voice were very evident, and at first Christine could do nothing but stare in shock.

"Damn it, answer me! What do you intend to do this time? Will I give you my heart for you to rip out again? Will I give you my ring so you can toss it in my lake? Will I love you with all my being, to see you declare your love for someone else? WHY DID YOU COME BACK TO ME!" Erik roared with every last bit of his anguished existence. His face flushed, he slumped back against the bed, the last strength of his body spent. He looked up, and at the look of horror on her face, he instinctively place his hand over the right side of his face. He had done it. He had said the burning, evil things that the voice in his head had said, but instead of feeling better, he felt horrible.

"I came back for you."

Erik lifted his head slightly to gaze at Christine at these simply words. Tears were rolling down her face. But her eyes…they were burning with a fire that he had never seen before…

"I was never given a choice, Erik. My whole life has been lived under the sheltering wings of someone else, whether it my father, or you, or Madam Giry, or even Raoul. You didn't give me a choice. You just expected me to make _your_ choice; a choice that would have consequences for the rest of my life. Could you really have expected me to pick fairly, when I didn't want Raoul's life to end? That first kiss…it was a ploy, I know. I did it for Raoul, and my soul burned in hatred for you, for making me kiss you when I had no desire to do so…"

"But, you kissed me twice! I didn't ask for that. You just wanted to see if you could still manipulate me!" Erik's head came up at these words, and he looked expectantly at Christine for an answer.

"Is that what you think? That I am here to cheat you, manipulate you? That second kiss changed my life, Erik, and I refuse to allow you to take that feeling away from me! You know nothing…" Christine turned away from him swiftly. "In a fleeting moment, I saw the true you. I saw your soul, and it was a twin of mine. When you freed me, when you made my choice for me, it didn't take me long to see that there was no choice for me…It will always be, simply, _you_.

Christine rose from her knees, and stared into Erik's eyes. They glittered with unshed tears; the piercing blue-green was diminished, and all she saw was pain.

"I think that I have caused you enough pain; enough pain for a lifetime. I can never express to you how sorry I am for what has happened; I should never have unmasked you in _Don Juan_. I shouldn't have even performed. I was twisted every way; I didn't know what was right and what was wrong. And for a moment, I didn't care. All I know now is this unbearable love that I have for you…perhaps it is just compensation for me to know that you are alive and well, but that I can never have you…" Christine leaned down, as if to kiss Erik on the cheek, but thought better of it. She straightened abruptly.

"I will not bother you anymore…when Madam Giry returns with the boat, I will return to the Opera House." Christine turned, and left Erik's bedroom area, going back to her work of trying to gather all of Erik's music. She stopped for a moment, pressed against the organ, and let herself cry those angry, sorrowful tears. She sobbed silently. And then, music penetrated her soul once again:

**No one would listen**

**No one but her, heard as the outcast hears…**

**Shamed into solitude,**

**Shunned by the multitude,**

**I learned to listen,**

**In my dark, my heart heard music.**

**I long to teach the world,**

**Rise up and reach the world,**

**No one would listen,**

**I alone could hear the music.**

**Then at last a voice in the gloom**

**Seemed to cry, I hear you,**

**I hear your fears, your torment and your tears!**

**She saw my loneliness,**

**Shared in my emptiness,**

**No one would listen,**

**No one but her, heard as the outcast hears…**

Christine heard the words, but more than that, she heard with her heart. She felt Erik's pain, frustration, and hope. She felt the connection that had established itself when she had kissed Erik grow stronger, and suddenly she didn't care what logic and sense told her. There was but one place for her, and that was by Erik's side. She found herself rising from the floor and moving toward Erik's bed. He had ended the song, and was now leaning slightly to the left, sobbing hard against his pillow. Christine went to the other side of the bed, and timidly crawled in. Erik lifted his tear-streaked face to look at Christine, a flash of surprise playing across his face. She reached for him. Christine took Erik into her arms, cradling his head against her chest, and she held him. All the pain, the fears, everything that had built up inside this man for his whole life poured out of him, and for once, he let every defense he had established down. There were no protective barriers as Erik cried. And for once, he didn't feel ashamed. He felt that he belonged here in this moment; here with his Christine, leaning against her, feeling her sweet breath as she murmured words of sympathy and love. Erik had never felt that he belonged anywhere; the world was supposed to hate him! But now, it seemed, that the angry voice wasn't there in his head anymore. Perhaps the voice was happy to be held by Christine too.

Erik felt the tears drain away. He looked up into Christine's brown eyes.

"I'm sorry Christine. I sho-" Eric started to apologize for his outburst before, but found Christine's finger pressed against his lips.

"Don't. If the past can't die, then we can never be together. We have both made mistakes. But we can move past them. I promise you, I will never leave your side again. Please, believe me!" Christine pleaded, both with her words and her chocolate eyes.

Erik leaned over a bit, and reached to touch a bit of her velvety curls.

"Christine…I love you," Erik sang the words lightly and quietly. Still, the effect echoed through Christine's soul. Erik leaned over, and for the first time, initiated the kiss that he had wanted for so long. Christine responded, raising her arms to hug his neck. This deepened the kiss, and Erik thought he would die now of pleasure…

Erik hissed into Christine's mouth as pain filled his body. Christine pulled away from him, and realized that she had been pressing him very hard across the chest.

"Ooops! I'm sorry…" Christine raised her hand to her mouth in horror. At Christine's expression, Erik laughed.

"My dear, I would trade that little bit of pain for that pleasure any day…" Erik broke into a huge yawn. His eyes were growing heavy, and he knew that sleep was beckoning him.

Christine noticed this as well. "You should sleep, my Angel. You need your strength. If you need me, I'll be just outside…" But Erik apparently had other ideas. "Please…stay with me. Just for a while."

Christine blushed, and nodded. "Before you go to sleep, can I check your bandages? Then I won't worry so in the night…"

"Sure, what can I do?" Erik said, hiding another yawn behind his hand.

"Just lie still. I need to make sure that you haven't bled through or anything. Madam Giry told me to watch out for that."

Christine looked first at his cuts on his knees. When Erik had first fallen, he landed squarely on some glass from the broken mirror. The pants that Erik had worn were so tight that Madam Giry couldn't roll them high enough to reveal his cuts, and so they had to cut them. They were in tatters now. Christine felt the bandage. Everything looked and felt dry. She moved up to the more serious wound: his gunshot wound.

"Erik?"

"Hmmm?"

"Meg said that when the mob came down here they couldn't find you. How is it that you became injured?" Christine asked delicately.

"It was…very ironic. I was standing in a hidden room in the back of my lair. There was a tapestry serving as my door, and a man stood right in front of my hiding place and had a shoot-out with another man. The two men fired, and I was unlucky enough to be standing where the bullet was heading…" Erik closed his eyes as he remembered the shock and pain that spread through his body. He opened them again and found Christine still leaning over him.

"My dear…Meg took my mask. I would like to have it back. Can you ask her about it?" Erik seemed almost embarrassed to ask such a thing, but Christine just smiled.

"She left it here for you. Hold on." Christine left the bed a moment, and returned with the white mask in her hand. Erik reached for it automatically, but Christine stopped him.

"This mask is not who you are. This mask belongs to the Phantom of the Opera, and I do not believe that you are that person any longer. Do you really need this?"

Erik smiled sadly. "The world is not as accepting as you are, Christine. I hide in the shadows because I am not wanted elsewhere. This is all I can truly offer you, Angel. I can offer you my love, my music, and my night. That's all I have to give…But I promise you: from this day forth, the Phantom is gone. No more will I be a ghost, a specter. I will be a living, breathing man. But as for tonight…"

Erik reached once more for his mask. This time Christine gave it to him, but to her surprise he didn't put it on. He merely set it beside him, and gestured to Christine to join him. Christine leaned onto the bed, and in a moment they were locked into a loving embrace. Erik felt the pain in his chest ebb away as his heart beat in time to Christine's. He finally closed his eyes, content.

"Tonight, I will just be _Erik_."

* * *

Awww fluffy stuff! Don't worry guys…the Phantom will still be the sarcastic, prideful man we expect him to be, but Christine now knows the Phantom's true self. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Hope you enjoyed reading it! Thank you again to all those that review my story: thanks for taking the time. Until next chapter! 

**Note:** I just wanted to say special thank you to Hans and Nidia. I hope that you continue to like the story.


	8. Days at the Opera Populaire

**Chapter 8**

**Days at the Opera Populaire**

**Author's note:** Unfortunately, for my story to have any plot, I had to leave our favorite couple in the lair this chapter, and bring a glimpse of what is happening above their heads…sigh. Raoul makes an appearance in this chapter as well. It might not be what some expect…

_Disclaimer: If I was the ruler of the world, everything would belong to me! Alas, I am not, therefore I don't own anything from the Phantom of the Opera._

And now, on with the story…

* * *

Madam Giry and Meg managed to make an effortless entry into the above levels of the Opera House; no one really noticed that they had been gone. Madam Giry went about the dancers, checking to make sure that everyone was well and no one had been injured in the chaos of the failed opera, _Don Juan_. Satisfied that all was as it should be, Madam Giry turned her attention to finding her two employers: Messieurs Firmin and Andre. She walked swiftly toward their office door. Madam Giry raised her hand to knock when she stopped suddenly. She heard her managers arguing loudly in their office. 

"What do you mean, _they didn't find anything_? We should have stopped this foolishness when we received the first letter…Why argue, Andre? You saw, as I did, that our 'Phantom' was but a living man… It makes no sense that respectable people like ourselves should be plagued by a menace…We search again!"

Madam Giry found herself overhearing the beginning of a very heated argument. She wanted to announce her presence, but found herself wanting to hear more…

"Yes! Exactly! As soon as the reconstruction begins on the stage and auditorium, we will search every catacomb under the Opera House! If he was foolish enough to stay, then we will have our man…if he is gone, or better yet, _dead_, well so much the better for us…" Firmin was talking very excitedly. Madam Giry could image in her mind that his face was red, and that his mustache was twitching on his lip. At the thought, Madam Giry almost laughed. She heard Andre answer.

"By why must we wait until then? The construction won't start until the beginning of next month! Why not go now, into the lower levels of the Opera House, and take him by surprise? We could bring explosives…blow up all the secret passage ways…"

"And completely destroy the foundation upon which this Opera House sits? Are you mad, man? What's your next idea, drain the lake and fill it with rocks?"

"Well, now that you mention it…"

"Oh do shut up man! And after all the trouble that the mob caused us, we have to be discrete in our managing of the situation. The press would have a field day! They already believe that the Phantom is a ghost story…they all think we're mad! Especially since the mob returned not with the Phantom's body, but one of there own dead. No, it is much better to wait until the time is right. Think, Andre. There will be so much confusion and chaos up here due to construction, occupying most everyone. Then we, and a group of selected people, of course, will search the lower levels."

"These 'selected people' will be armed, of course?" Andre asked timidly.

"Oh Andre…"

Madam Giry whirled on her heels and left the door of her manager's office as fast as she could. She would return, to talk to her managers, but she needed time to process what she had just overheard. She knew that the information that she just heard was vital for Erik's survival. She feared that he would not fare well at all if discovered.

* * *

Meg was currently in Christine's room, trying to decide on which things her friend would need the most. The trick was to take enough to look as if Christine had left for a brief trip, but intended to still return to the Opera House. She made a care package of basic essentials: hair brush, tooth brush, undergarments, and changes of clothes. Meg glanced down at Christine's picture of her father, and quickly added that to her collection. She gathered everything together on top of Christine's bed, and tied the bed sheet around it, making a makeshift bag. Now came the tricky part. Meg needed to sneak some food. Her mother had said that Erik had some supplies down in the lair; they knew that he still had fresh water in abundance. But food was an entirely different matter. Luckily, (although Meg's mother didn't know this), Meg had been stealing food from the kitchens for ages. She went down the hallway by Christine's room, and walked to the darkened dead end. Meg glanced around for a moment, and when she was satisfied that no one was watching, she quickly slid behind the secret door in the dead end. Meg always felt a little rebellious when she entered her secret place. _I imagine this is how Erik feels all the time_, Meg thought with a grin. _Perhaps we have more in common than either of us realizes. _The small passage way led directly to the kitchen; the end door had a small decorative window that allowed Meg to see when it was safe to dart out. Meg waited a few moments as a fat, sweat stained cook meandered about the kitchen. When the kitchen was empty, Meg came out of her hiding place, and reached for an empty bread basket. She filled it with fruit, bread, cheese, and anything else she thought would be useful to take. Her eyes spotted a bottle of wine in the corner of a counter. _Do I dare?_ Meg thought with a mischievous grin on her face. _Of course I do!_ Meg snatched the bottle, and tucked it in safely in the basket, where it would not be found by her mother's sharp eyes. _That should ensure a little fun_, Meg thought as she climbed back into the passage way.

* * *

Madam Giry went back to her room, trying to compose her self and think upon what she had overheard. She knew one thing for certain: Erik could not be anywhere near the Opera House when Firmin and Andre came searching. What could she do? She had no doubt that Erik would be more than able to take care of himself by that time, given no complications with his injuries. But where would he go? Madam Giry had no relatives that might take him in, and she owned no property of her own. This would be quite the quandary. Madam Giry sighed out loud. If it wasn't one problem, it was another. She would have to present this to Erik; he may well have some property somewhere that she didn't know about. She turned to go to the door of her room to exit when there was a knock at the door. 

"Who is it?" Madam Giry asked politely.

"It's Raoul de Chagny, Madam Giry."

Madam Giry froze. The boy would want to know where Christine was. What was she to do? _Lie_, she told herself firmly. She must lie.

"One moment, dear," Madam Giry said in response, and she reached to open the door.

Raoul entered. He was impeccably dressed, as always. Madam Giry glanced at him carefully as he took the seat that she offered him. He didn't seem distressed about anything. Maybe this was just a courtesy call?

Raoul upset that theory with his next words. "Christine has returned to the Phantom, hasn't she? He's still here, underneath the Opera House…"

Madam Giry quickly turned away from him, to hide her shock. Whatever she had expected, this was the furthest thing that would have come to mind. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"It's fine. I didn't come here to force you to take me to her, nor to demand that she leave with me. Christine has made her choice. I have only come to learn the truth. I have only come to gain closure." Raoul gently rotated Madam Giry to look into her eyes.

"Is she happy?" Raoul asked quietly.

"Yes. Without a doubt." Madam Giry said gently. "I know that this must be hard for you…"

"Madam, you have no idea…The man is a wanted murderer! He is deranged! How do you know that he hasn't brainwashed her, or threatened her in some way? He wants nothing for her happiness! But I do!" Raoul blurted out. He had sadness in his eyes. "I would have loved her, loved her for every day in my life!"

"Vicomte, please. I do not think that I have the right to tell you anything concerning Christine. You must trust her to make her own decisions. Miss Daae is not a child any longer, Monsieur. If you truly value her happiness, you will leave this matter alone!" Madam Giry said firmly. Then she softened.

"My dear, if I may be so bold…what kind of life would Christine have had as a Vicometess? You would have been able to provide her with most any tangible creation in all of Paris, even the world. But what of her voice, Monsieur? Would she still sing in an Opera House, with dancers and performers? It would not have been proper for her or you. She is a songbird, my dear, and can't be caged."

"Yes…I know…it is just hard to accept…" Raoul said, shaking his head sadly.

"Accept her friendship, dear Vicomte. By accepting her friendship, you accept her love as well, and that love is a strong bond." Madam Giry placed her hand on Raoul's shoulder in comfort.

"You…are right, of course, Madam. To see Christine happy is the most important thing for me. I will do as you suggest." Raoul turned to leave.

"I will still be patron to this Opera House, Madam. I will make myself available if you ever need assistance." Raoul's eyes glittered in knowing, and Madam Giry smiled.

"Thank you, dear Vicomte. I will remember your offer, and accept it one day…"

"Until then, Madam." With that having been said, Raoul turned to leave the room when Madam Giry stopped him.

"I trust that you will remain…discrete in your decisions on who to reveal this information to? You know many secrets, Monsieur, and many would harm others if told…"

"I would never do anything to put Christine in danger, Madam. You have my word of honor." Raoul's eyes flashed fire at Madam Giry, and he swiftly left the small room.

Madam Giry breathed a deep sigh of relief. The boy was obviously smarter than he first appeared. He truly cared for Christine, enough so as to accept that she had chosen his rival over him…and then to offer his help…

Madam Giry smiled slightly to herself. She knew that she would never call upon his aid, and she believed that he knew that as well. _Well_, she thought to herself, _fate has done trickier things…_

Madam Giry left her room. She needed to speak to both Erik and Christine as soon as possible, but she also knew that she needed to speak to Firmin and Andre before she left. Madam Giry started once more toward her managers' office.

* * *

This time when she reached the door, Madam Giry swiftly knocked. Firmin called the customary response, and Madam Giry walked in. 

"Ah, Madam Giry, always a pleasure!" Firmin rose from his seat and inclined his head in respect. "Please forgive me for the state of my office; it is a considerable mess, and I can't do anything about it until Andre returns…please forgive his absence as well, Madam." Firmin came from behind his desk and pulled a chair out for Madam Giry to sit in. After seeing to her comforts, he returned to his seat and sat down.

"Now, Madam, what is it that I can do for you?" Firmin asked calmly.

"I was simply wondering how the chandelier crash will affect the rest of the season, Monsieur. Would it be wise to cancel the rest of the season? What would you like me to do with the dancers?" Madam Giry sounded nonchalant. She studied Firmin carefully for a moment. He was, understandably, in an incredibly frustrating position, and he was clearly worried about the fate of the Opera Populaire. But was it her imagination, or did he seem, well _overly polite_? She had often times felt that her managers disliked her, and now M. Firmin was being especially pleasant to her. Madam Giry immediately put herself on guard.

"Right now, my partner and I intend only on canceling a minimum number of shows this season. As soon as the stage and auditorium are presentable again, we will begin with the next opera in our repertoire. Your dancers will find themselves with extra time on their hands, I'm afraid, for we have no idea what opera we will be performing. We are in the position of having to find a new tenor, what with Piangi's untimely demise. We may have to find a new prima donna as well, for I fear that La Carlotta will not return. Have you, by any chance, talked to Miss Daae? Will she be returning?" Firmin looked at Madam Giry hopefully, only to find Madam Giry shaking her head.

"Miss Daae has taken a leave of the Opera House for a time. She will return, Monsieur, but I do not know when." Madam Giry felt relieved to answer truthfully.

Firmin shook his head sadly. "Well, I certainly can't blame her for not wanting to return! What with all this 'Phantom' business…tell me, Madam Giry, do you think that we have seen the last of the Phantom of the Opera?"

Madam Giry glanced at Firmin, and firmly shook her head. "I don't know, Monsieur, I just don't know."

She turned away quickly as Firmin gave her leave to go. As the door shut behind her, she said softly:

"I hope so…"

At the same time, Firmin smiled in his lighted office.

"We shall see, Madam. We shall see."


	9. Our passions may fuse and merge

**Chapter 9**

**Our passions may fuse and merge…**

**Author's note:** I love this chapter…I think that it's my favorite. It's long too! I don't foresee more than two more chapters, everyone. I hope that you have enjoyed the story, and will hang in to see the ending…and thanks again to all who read and review!

_Disclaimer: If I married Erik, would I own the Phantom of the Opera? Oh wait, I don't think it works that way…_

And now, on with the story…

* * *

Erik was use to silence. When he wasn't composing music, the lair was naturally quiet. Erik, who understood that silence was a part of living alone, found it comforting, especially when he was trying to sleep. Occasionally, the splish and splash of the lake pushing against the lair bank would interrupt his sleep and awaken him, but when Erik found the time to sleep, he normally slept undisturbed. This day, however, Erik was awakened by an odd sound. He opened his eyes slightly to peer about. His vision was partly obscured by what appeared to be a brown, curly wall. He reached up and touched the mass of curls, and felt the silkiness against his bare hand. Erik heard again the sound that had awakened him, and discovered that it was the soft, rhythmic breathing of the young lady sleeping beside him. He closed his eyes again, and just enjoyed the simple _nearness_ of Christine. She was small and delicate, and she still held onto him tightly in sleep. Erik looked at her as she slept. He had watched her sleep countless times, but this time things were different. This time, he wasn't simply an Angel watching a sleeping child. Erik was here with _her_, not as an Angel but as a man, and it was by Christine's own choice. Lost in his thoughts, Erik was a bit surprised when he noticed that he was staring into her brown eyes. Christine smiled. 

"Good morning, Erik," she said rising up a little, and ending their embrace. She shook her head slightly, trying to gather her tendrils of hair, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Erik just looked at her. Was it possible for someone to look so beautiful in the morning? Erik pushed himself up from the bed, and twisted his body so his legs hung off the edge of the bed.

"I feel…," Erik looked as his body and did a mental assessment. Was everything working? Could he breathe correctly, and without pain?

"I feel surprisingly well. There is very little pain in my chest. My knees are still a bit sore…" Erik answered truthfully. Christine eyed him a moment, and positioned herself beside him.

"Perhaps you would like some different clothes? You're not wearing much." Christine observed, with a faint blush to her cheeks.

Erik glanced down at himself. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but there was a wide strip of ripped fabric tied in the back across his lower chest. He was glad to see no blood on the bandage; he was no longer bleeding from his serious wound. His pants had been cut just above the knee, and he knew that he must be covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. He looked at Christine. Christine's hair wasn't tied back, and she was fighting a losing battle trying to keep it out of her eyes. She wore a dress that was absolutely filthy; it had several rips in places that barely preserved her decency. That dress…it looked familiar…

Erik's eyes widened suddenly in recognition. It was _his_ wedding dress! He had forced her to put it on! Horror and regret were prominent among the feelings flooding his mind, and Christine noticed his silence.

"Erik, what's wrong? Do you feel sick?" Christine asked with concern.

"I…your dress, Christine…I…had no right to force you into that dress…I can't believe that I-"

"Erik…we can't keep doing this. If we did, then we would never move on with our lives! This wedding dress doesn't matter anymore…I will simply need another one…"

Christine looked up at Erik coyly, to see if he had understood what she had said. The look of shock and disbelief in his face told her that he had indeed.

"After all that has happened…you want to…marry me?" Erik said with difficulty, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Erik, I love you! What more could I want than to be your wife?" Christine reached up and caressed his scarred cheek. Erik flinched, and tried to pull away. Christine held his face between her hands firmly.

"I love all of you. And that's all that we need."

"But it will be so hard! I'm not exactly in a position to where I can go in public. I can't take a walk with you in Paris, or take you to operas. You deserve much more than that, my dear. I won't condemn you to live here with me in my darkness." Erik said the words passionately and with a sense of finality. Christine knew that arguing would help nothing, but she tried anyway.

"We can make it work! We would have each other. As long as we have our love, then the rest doesn't matter to me. Do you think me so shallow?"

"Christine, you don't know what you give up so easily! I would give anything to be able to be normal; to do the things that most take for granted. I will never be _normal_." Erik said, looking listlessly at the floor.

Christine looked at him sharply. "That's fine, my dear, because I didn't fall in love with you because were _normal_!"

Erik sighed. He pushed off the bed gently, and was surprised to find himself standing upright without assistance. Erik reached his arm toward a nearby wall, and supported his weight. He grinned at Christine, who mirrored his smile. She rose from the bed as well, and came forward to hug Erik.

"I love you for the way that you make me feel. I love you for your music, I love you for your voice, I love you for your devotion. You are the only one for me, Angel. My soul-mate." Christine felt him gasp, and when she looked up in concern, she found his lips' meeting her's in a breathtaking way. The attraction was obvious, and it was like kissing lightning.

They broke apart reluctantly, but lingered in their embrace. Erik was smiling as he stroked her cheek.

"Thank you Christine. You have saved me in more ways than you can imagine."

Christine grinned. "It's too bad that I couldn't save your clothes…"

Erik looked at himself and shook his head. "Do you think that _I_ would get embarrassed over something like clothes?"

"Or lack there of…" Christine said slowly.

Erik lunged forward and grabbed Christine by the waist, tickling her. She started gasping for air, begging him to stop. They were caught in the moment, just the two of them…

"Ahem!"

Erik and Christine stopped moving. They looked up in shock to find Madam Giry and Meg standing a few feet away. Erik moved away from Christine abruptly, but Madam Giry raised her hand to stop him.

"I always seem to interrupt, don't I?" She said with a smile.

* * *

Erik sat at his organ bench. His hands began to hover over the keys, as if his fingers had a mind of their own. _No, now is not the time_, Erik thought firmly. Erik felt much more comfortable in a clean change of clothes. He had washed himself up, and he felt that he looked presentable enough. Erik also had his mask back on. Christine had protested at first, but she came to understand his need to hide his deformity. _Concentrate_, his mind hissed at him. Erik tried to turn his attention back to Madam Giry, who seemed to be very agitated. 

"Erik, have you listened to anything that I have said? There going to come after you! You have to abandon this lair, and in only a matter of weeks!" Madam Giry was slowly turning red, and she had planted her hands on her hips.

"I have understood everything that you have said thus far, Marie. I just don't understand why you are so upset about everything. If we have time, then it should be no problem to figure something out. You worry too much…"

"And you worry too little! Or have you forgotten that we're not just talking about your safety here!" The moment she said these words, Madam Giry knew she had crossed a line. Erik's eyes turned hard, and he rose uneasily from the bench to take a step toward her.

"Madam, you go too far. I care for Christine's life more than my own! Do not presume to tell me that I care nothing for her safety!" Eric loomed over her now. Madam Giry could not remember the last time he had been this angry, and she did the only thing that she knew would calm him down.

"Erik, of course I know that you care for Christine. I never meant to imply otherwise. It's just that this situation is much more than you realize," Madam Giry apologized quickly. She bowed her head. "Forgive me, I just worry so for your wellbeing…"

Eric touched her arm, feeling his sudden anger ebb away. "I know Marie, I know. But it helps nothing to panic. And I don't want to worry anyone unnecessarily," he said meaningfully, glancing at Christine, who was talking cheerfully with Meg.

"But Erik, where will you go? I have no relatives that could take you in; and I don't suppose that you have a house hidden in your back pocket!" Madam Giry retorted.

Erik gave her an odd look. "I think that I have something better…follow me a moment, Marie." Erik turned and started walking slowly toward the very back of his lair. There, located in a small alcove, was another desk. It was far plainer and simpler than the elaborate one in the center of his lair, but it seemed this one had a different purpose. Erik leaned forward and opened the two drawers on the left side of the desk. They were full of envelopes.

"Do you know what this is, Marie?" Erik asked, picking up one of the envelopes to show her.

"Those…those are all the envelopes that have contained your salary, are they not? Have you kept all this money all this time?

"Marie, when one lives alone, in an underground lair, one usually has to find excuses to spend money. I simply lived parsimoniously, for I envisioned that one day I would need a use for this money. And now, it seems I have found a worthy cause," Erik said, with a touch of dry humor. He showed Madam Giry the other drawers; they were full of envelopes as well.

"Well…I…that's so much money! Surely you won't trust me with this…" Madam Giry said, fanning herself with her hand. Erik looked at her seriously.

"Madam, I would trust you with not just my life, but Christine's. Please, take this and procure a house for us, preferably one just outside of Paris. Furnish it sparingly, for I know not how long these funds may have to last us," Erik said solemnly. Madam Giry nodded.

"Of course, dear. I will find something most suitable for you and Christine." Madam Giry turned to walk toward Christine and her daughter when Erik grabbed her arm. She spun around to find him grinning.

"There is one more thing I must ask…can you locate a suitable piano? That is the one thing that I need most of all…" Erik looked a little sheepish. Madam Giry merely laughed.

"That will be my easiest task!"

* * *

"Did he really go to see your mother, Meg?" Christine asked quietly, so that only her friend could hear the question. They were stationed near the lake, their backs to the gondola. 

"Yes, I know, it's so strange…but Mother said that nothing bizarre happened or anything. She's going to talk to you about it, of course," Meg answered. She looked at her friend. "You need a bath!" Meg said, wrinkling her nose. Christine laughed out loud, and made an effort to push Meg into the lake.

"You'll have to do better than that!" Meg called, easily dodging Christine. Unfortunately, she did not see the stone lying on the ground, and she tripped, falling head first into the lake with a loud SPLASH.

"Oh Meg! Meg!" Christine exclaimed in surprise, and leaned forward toward the lake, trying to find her friend. Suddenly, hands shot up to the surface of the lake, and the next thing Christine knew was the shock of cold water on her face. She surfaced, and, gasping for air, managed to get a hold on her friend.

"What…did you do that for!" Christine spurted, spitting water out of her mouth in a most unladylike fashion.

"Oh come off it, it was fun!" Meg grinned at her, and dunked her under the water.

"That's it!" Christine yelled. She started toward Meg when she realized that there was two rather out-of-breath people in front of her. She grinned guiltily at Erik and Madam Giry.

"Um…hi?" Meg said, noticing the angry look on her mother's face. She saw this look at least twice a day.

"Meg Giry! Have you lost what little mind you had? What is the meaning of all this noise and commotion? Are you a little girl-child of eleven again? Get out of that water this instance! And you Christine, you are no better! A woman of seventeen, playing about as if she was child! You two should be ashamed of yourselves! Right, Erik?" Madam Giry glanced at Erik, who had his head in one of his hands. His shoulders were shaking.

"Your laughing, aren't you? You are?" Madam Giry said incredulously. "I can't believe this! Girls, get out of that water right this second! You will catch your death in a cold, mark my wor-"Madam Giry didn't get to finish her sentence. She felt strong hands against her back, and found herself pushed into the lake. Madam Giry poked her head above the water, and looked directly at Erik with a look of fury on her face. Erik let out the laugh that had been building for quite a while.

"I always get my revenge, Marie…always."

* * *

The girls emerged from the water, and quickly dried themselves off. Erik took up his place at his organ and began to play as the girls moved toward the bedroom area to change clothes. Madam Giry had to make do with her wet clothes, for she didn't have anything to change into. She was wrapped in a blanket, and snapped at anyone who spoke to her. Meg borrowed a dress from Christine, and helped Christine comb her damp hair. The whole time Erik played beautifully. Christine, dry and satisfied with her appearance, approached Madam Giry, who still had an angry look on her face. 

"Madam Giry, Raoul came to see you, didn't he?" Christine asked timidly. Madam Giry glanced at Erik's back against the organ, and nodded at Christine.

"Yes, my dear, I did speak with him. He knows your decision. _All_ of your decision."

"He knows that I have chosen to stay with Erik?" Christine gasped and covered her mouth quickly.

"There's more, I'm afraid. He knows that Erik is still under the Opera House."

"Oh no! What if he goes to the managers! What if he tells them about us? What if we are discovered?" Christine asked the questions in quick succession. She glanced at Madam Giry, and was surprised to find her smiling.

"My dear, that is an awful lot of 'what ifs'. Raoul just wants to see you happy, Christine. He will do nothing to jeopardize your safety."

"You are so sure Madam? Not even to get a chance at me?" Madam Giry whirled around to face Erik, whose face was flushed with anger.

"Erik, what could I have done? He knew everything before he even entered my bedroom. We have but one option: we must get you and Christine out of this lair, permanently, and as soon as possible." Madam Giry said carefully. Erik stood sharply, and lowered his gaze to Christine's.

"Please, Erik, nothing can help it now. It changes nothing if Raoul knows about us. If all that Madam Giry has said is true, then he will not come looking for us at all…"

Erik looked away from Christine. She saw the pain there, and knew that he had merely wanted her reassurance. She rose from her seat, and reached for Erik.

"Angel, everything will work out. We've already been through the worst. We just have to keep going, together…" Erik nodded slightly, and went back to his organ. This time, the tune was furious and fast. Christine winced at the dissonance in the piece.

"Perhaps Meg and I should go," Madam Giry said at last, motioning for her daughter, who was setting out food for her friend.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea…thanks for the supplies, my friends. I will actually be able to bandage Erik properly tonight." Christine kissed Madam Giry and hugged Meg.

"I left you a surprise, Christine! It's still in the basket!" Meg called out, earning another angry look from her mother.

"We might not be back for a few days…we're going to look for a house for you and Erik that will be suitable. All hope depends on us finding one soon…" Madam Giry called as the boat left the lair.

* * *

Christine approached Erik at his organ. He was still playing wrathfully, and she was afraid that he might hurt himself playing so soon after his injuries. She touched his shoulders, and his hands stopped dancing over the keys. Christine took the place beside him on the bench and they sat in silence for a moment. 

Erik reached up and removed his mask. Christine glanced at him with a curious look on her face. Erik then rose from the bench, to promptly fall on one knee.

At first, Christine thought that perhaps he had hurt himself. She leaned forward to help him when he reached up and cupped her chin in his delicate hands.

"Christine, I know that I can be a difficult man. But hear me out. You have taught me so many things in the years that I have known you. Patience, kindness, compassion, and…love. I have never asked for anything in my life; I have always merely taken what I have wanted. But this time…I will ask…"

Erik reached into the pocket of his shirt and revealed the ring that Christine had returned to him. Christine looked up into his eyes, knowingly and lovingly. Erik reached for her hand.

"Will you marry me, Christine? Will you lead me from my solitude and loneliness? Will you save me from myself…" Erik slipped the ring onto her finger. Christine looked at the beauty against her hand, and then leapt into Erik's arms.

"Of course I will!" Christine gasped out her answer as Erik kissed her passionately.

Christine escaped from him and grabbed him by the hand to help him from his position. "Come, my Angel. There is a meal prepared for us. We can celebrate!"

Erik graciously accepted Christine's hand. "My knee is killing me," he admitted, rubbing it with his hand. Christine grinned at his teasing. "Well, it isn't my fault!"

"No, I suppose it isn't," Erik said, as Christine led him to where the food was.

It was then that they discovered Meg's little present…

* * *

This chapter is dedicated to my friend Grant: Thanks for understanding and for being all crazy and stuff. 


	10. Raoul's decision

**Chapter 10**

**Raoul's decision**.

**Author's note:** This chapter has been bugging me for quite a while now. I think I have changed my ideas at least twenty times. Raoul will be the most important part of this chapter. Now, don't get me wrong: I am all for the ECiyness in my fic, but I get so very tired of Raoul being portrayed out of character a lot, so I have decided to try my best to portray him as I feel he is in the musicals/movies/books.

**To draegon-fire:** My friend, I know that you sent me a couple of reviews wishing that Raoul could be of some help to the Phantom and Christine. I wanted to address that, but I didn't want to give my story away. I really really hope you like this chapter…I think that it's right up your alley…and there's more to come…GRINS EVILLY

_Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera is MINE! And I am also BATMAN! And I can become INVISIBLE!_

And now, on with the story.

**

* * *

**

_Two weeks later…_

Madam Giry was on her way to look at a house that had just come up for sale. She traveled with the owner of the house, one Nicolas Orleans. Madam Giry had looked at just under twenty houses in 10 days. She was very selective, and she insisted to herself that when she found the right place, it would somehow speak to her. The owner tried to engage her in frivolous small talk, but she didn't respond well. Madam Giry's mind was set on one thing: she was running out of time. She had to find something, and fast. She looked out the carriage window and was surprise to see a lush, dense forest as the backdrop.

"How far is this house from Paris, Monsieur?" She asked politely, giving the house a mental checkpoint.

"It is precisely 10 miles from the outskirts, Madam," the owner replied timidly, "and I don't mind telling you that the location has been a big deterrent to most who view it. But it _is_ a lovely house, this I can guarantee."

"Yes, of course. Tell me a little more about the location, please Monsieur." Madam Giry was starting to feel a little excited. If the house wasn't a complete shack, this may be just the things she was looking for…

"Well for starters, the house is located on a cleared lot. It is surrounded by large, majestic trees, and a small river runs nearby; it is always a treat to take a dip when the weather is hot…"

Madam Giry knew the main was merely just trying to make his home more appealing to a potential buyer; the trees that she was surrounded by were twisted and distorted, and she didn't think that having a rushing river rapid located near one's house was a good thing.

"Is it located on this main road?" Madam Giry inquired.

"No ma'am, it…you have to take a smaller road to reach the house. But that's not necessarily a bad thing, Madam. Think of the privacy, the quietness…"

"And think if I or my child becomes ill, hmmm? You try to sell this place on location, and you lose, Monsieur. Let us hope that the house makes up for it." Madam Giry didn't want to tell the man that a secluded, private location was exactly what she wanted. The man had already said that he was having trouble selling the place. Perhaps Madam Giry could get a better price for Erik if she played down the house's so far wonderful qualities.

"Ah here, Madam, we turn from the main road." Monsieur Orleans said brightly. Madam Giry peered out the window. The forest was as deep as ever, and she could hear the smooth sounds of the nearby river. The carriage turned a corner, and Madam Giry got her first glimpse at Monsieur Orleans' house.

It was a two-story cottage, surrounded by a small fence and gate. A large stable stood nearby. The house appeared to be clean and quaint from the outside, and the owner had been telling the truth about a humble sized clearing that served as yard. Monsieur Orleans beamed at Madam Giry.

"There's a garden in the back as well, Madam. My wife kept it up. The master bedroom has a balcony overlooking it."

The carriage came to a halt in front of the small gate of the house. The driver appeared at the door, and held it opened as he helped Madam Giry out.

"We will be but a moment, Monsieur," she murmured to him as she exited the carriage. The excited Monsieur Orleans was practically dancing as he moved to open the front door for Madam Giry.

"Here is the front entrance; the kitchen is to the left, and a dining room is attached. On the right it-"

"Monsieur Orleans, if you do not mind, I would prefer to look at the house alone. I am quite sure I can determine which rooms are which." Madam Giry interrupted. She wanted to look at the house in peace, away from this annoying man.

"Ah, but of course, Madam Giry. I will await you in the garden…" With that, Monsieur Orleans bowed his way out of the house. Madam Giry stood alone in the entry hall. Was this house the one? Madam Giry looked at the delicate looking staircase that led to the second story. _First, this floor_, Madam Giry thought. She turned right first. It was a large room, with several windows that overlooked the front of the house. _No doubt Christine could use this as a parlor room_, Madam Giry thought, satisfied. She turned to leave the room, when a door in the far corner of the room caught her eye. She moved forward and opened the door. There were three small windows located at the top of the wall on the right. It was dark and romantic, and Madam Giry's eyes widened as she saw a beautiful, if a bit run-down, piano located in the back corner of the room. _This is perfect_, she thought to herself, smiling smugly. She left the room, and continued her tour of the house. The upstairs was spacious and inviting, and the master bedroom did indeed have a balcony. And with two other bedrooms, it seemed just the house that Eric and Christine could…grow into. Madam Giry smiled at the thought. _This is the one_, she thought confidently, and went to find Monsieur Orleans.

"So Madam Giry, did you find everything satisfactory? I do trust that you saw the wonderful potential of my home…" Monsieur Orleans smiled a huge fake smile when he first saw Madam Giry emerge from the house.

"Bahh! Your house is small, out of the way, and poorly maintained! I can't believe you're asking so much for it!" Madam Giry put on a look of indignation and disgust. The man crumpled under Madam Giry's gaze.

"Look, Madam, let me be frank. I really need to sell this house, and you're the first prospective person to actually arrive to see the house! Please, I am willing to negotiate the price…" The man's tone was pleading and desperate. Madam Giry knew know that she had him exactly as she wanted him.

"Well, Monsieur Orleans, I am not an unreasonably woman. Perhaps we can come to a suitable arrangement." The owner's face lit up, and he reached up to grasp Madam Giry's arm. As he led her back inside the house, Madam Giry smiled.

"And perhaps we can come to an agreement concerning that piano collecting dust in your music room…

* * *

"Christine…Christine!" Erik looked wildly about his lair, trying to find his betrothed. He had been, once again, caught in the moment of his music. He had glanced up, realizing that he hadn't heard Christine's voice in quite some time, and discovered her gone. Erik was now frantically moving around, trying to calm his racing heart. _Marie and Meg took the boat with them, if she had left, she would have had to swim. Can she even swim? Did someone take her?_ Frantic thoughts ran through Erik's head, when he heard a muffled sound. He listened more carefully… 

"Erik, I'm right here!" called the voice, this time a little bit clearer.

"Where are you?" Erik asked the obvious question. He looked about again, and this time heard the voice coming from a large, heavy pile of his sheet music.

"I'm here!" the pile of sheet music said, and Erik moved forward to find Christine in the very center of 6 rather tall piles of music. They had not only hidden her from view, but they had also muffled her voice. Erik breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why were you hiding? I couldn't find you…" Erik said jokingly, but found quickly that Christine wasn't very amused.

"Well, if I didn't have so much music to sort, you wouldn't have had to worry," Christine said crossly. She held up her grimy hands as proof. "There has to be hundreds of musical compositions here! What are we going to do with them all?"

"Now, wait just a moment. I remember everything that I have ever written. I can't just leave this music here to rot…it's been my life for so long now," Erik said, shame evident on his face.

Christine softened. "My Angel, if you want to take all this music, then of course we will. This is part of your past, and I want it to be a part of our future." Erik looked at the sincerity on her face, and smiled.

"If I wasn't afraid of starting a cave-in, I would kiss you."

"No Erik, stay away! If you cause this to fall, after I have been sorting for so long, I will…" Christine didn't finish the sentence. Erik had reached over, plucked her from the center of the music, and planted a kiss squarely on her lips. She immediately responded to him, and when they pulled away, she was gasping for air.

"Ah, well, never mind then…," she said, a little dazed.

* * *

Madam Giry hurried through the Opera House in search of her daughter. She nodded at Firmin, who was standing nearby his office. She reached her daughter's room, and promptly knocked. 

"Come in!"

Madam Giry walked in. Her daughter was seated at her bed, reading a novel. At the look on her mother's face, she put the book aside.

"So, do we have good news to celebrate?" Meg asked, knowing the answer.

"Oh, Meg, it is the perfect house! It is a small cottage ten miles from Paris. I even convinced the guy to throw in an old piano he had in a back room. It needs a little restoring, but other than that it will be perfect for our _friends_," Madam Giry said meaningfully, glancing down at the floor.

"Wonderful Mother! I can't wait to tell them…when can they move?" Meg wasn't sure how she felt about Christine moving so far away from her. She loved her as a sister, and she would miss her terribly.

"The house is completely ready, though not up to our friend's personal tastes, of course. It comes fully furnished! We can have them moved as soon as tonight!"

"Well, let's go spread our good news then, shall we?" Meg laughed at the look of happiness on her mother's face. Her mother did not want to let Erik down, and she had worried so over his and Christine's safety.

"All right, but we must keep it brief, my dear. It can't look suspicious." With that, mother and daughter left the room.

* * *

Raoul was lost in his own thoughts. He walked through the Opera House, seemingly to inspect where his considerable funds were being used, but in reality his thoughts were on but one thing: Christine. The ache in his heart reminded him of her choice, but he found that all he needed to move on was to concentrate on the fact that Christine was _happy_. She wasn't a child anymore, not a precious porcelain doll to be protected and cared for. He knew that, knew it now more than ever. What if he had treated her differently? Would she still be with him now? _No_, his heart said, _her love belonged to another before your love for her_…He sighed and cleared his head. He concentrated on the beginnings of the new stage and auditorium. Worked started officially in a few days, but already some demolition was taking place. Looking around, he found Andre in the corner, talking excitedly to a man that he did not recognize. He started toward him. As he approached, both men looked up, and the man Andre was talking to gave his goodbyes. Andre beaconed at Raoul. 

"Vicomte de Chagny! What a surprise! How are you on this fine day?" Andre beamed and moved forward, extending his hand.

"I am well indeed, good Monsieur. How go things here?" Raoul accepted his firm handshake, and waved his hand to emphasize his point.

"Oh, very well, of course. Everything is moving according to plan. Once again, Vicomte, I would like to say how much your patronage is appreciated. With all that has happened, we had expected a different reaction." Andre said seriously.

"Well, I assume Monsieur, that you will have no more problems with the Opera Ghost," Raoul said, watching Andre flinch when he said 'opera ghost'.

"We are actually, erm, rectifying that problem. As a matter of fact…would you care to talk privately a moment, Monsieur?" Andre guided him to his office, and locked the door behind him.

"We know that the Opera Ghost still resides below, in the catacombs," Andre said excitedly.

Raoul pretended to be shocked, while horror was playing through his mind, "You don't say…how did you come to this conclusion, Monsieur? I heard that the mob returned with a dead body, and it was released in the paper that the culprit behind the fire was killed…" Raoul said this as nonchalantly as possible. Andre winced.

"Yes well, you can imagine the publicity we would get, if the public knew that the mob that went to catch a murderer ended up murdering one of their own! No, dear Vicomte, we have a more positive way of knowing that the Phantom is still among the living…"

Raoul's breath caught in his throat. He didn't like how this was going. "And what, pray tell, is this way?"

"Madam Giry!" Andre smiled a triumphant beam, and leaned back in his chair.

Raoul groaned inwardly. _So they really do know that the Phantom still lives_. "And how did Madam Giry become the key to this Phantom riddle?"

"Well, as you know, she always seemed to have certain…sympathies with the Phantom. She always seemed to have his letters; his messages. Firmin and I had suspected that she knew more than she was letting on, so we have been having her followed. She goes into the secret catacombs by means of a large mirror in one of the dressing rooms. Her tail has followed her all the way to the underground lake. We know that the Phantom's lair is beyond that lake, and all we have to do is find it, and we will have our man!" Andre was excited, and at his final words he burst forth from his chair and did a little dance of joy. If Raoul wasn't so dismayed, he might have laughed at the sight.

"Monsieur Andre, when will you go to fetch the Phantom? Will you deliver him to police, or carry out your own justice?" Raoul asked many questions at once, hoping to get the one he really needed answered first.

"We intend to go tonight! And let me be frank, dear Vicomte, it will be very easy to say that the man…attacked me…if you catch my meaning," Andre winked an eye at Raoul.

"Of course, Monsieur. I value your great intelligence and planning. No more will this Ghost threaten our beloved Opera House!" Raoul said passionately, flattering Andre at the same time.

"If you will forgive me, I find myself late for an appointment. I will meet you again tomorrow morning, to share your great triumph over this man!" Raoul stood and bowed, and quickly left the office.

Raoul's mind danced with emotions, thoughts, and scenes until becoming fixed on only one thing: the bastard of a Phantom! He had put Christine in danger. _I knew it! He cares nothing for her_…part of his mind was starting to think evil thoughts: what if he accompanied Andre and Firmin to the catacombs; he could apprehend the Phantom, and rescue the woman he loved…she would love him again, and the Phantom would rot in whatever Hell would take him. But then he saw Christine's face before him, as it had been when she had told him the truth: _"Father is dead Raoul, and when he died, Little Lotte, the girl that you loved, died as well. You don't know me enough to know if you want to marry me… I have to follow my heart, and I can't marry you. I'm sorry"_ Christine would never accept him merely because the Phantom wasn't around. Would that be the kind of love he wanted in the first place? Second place?_ No, _his heart said. She loves the Phantom, no matter how much I hate it…Even knowing this, Raoul knew he had to protect Christine. And to protect her…His mind was coming to a sharp conclusion, one that was hurting every inch of his being: to help the woman he loved, he would have to help the man he hated. _Ah, fate is cruel_, Raoul thought, as he went to find Madam Giry.

* * *

Madam Giry, Meg, Christine, and Erik were all loading the last bit of supplies to leave the lair. The majority was sheet music that Erik could not part with, though he had made several sacrifices. It wasn't much at all; over the past weeks they had basically moved everything piece by piece, so as not to attract attention. Erik didn't own much to begin with, but what little he had was precious to him. He looked at his destroyed lair, and then looked at Christine. _I'm trading one life for another_, he realized. He smiled. Christine noticed, and touched his arm. 

"Why so happy, Erik?" Christine mirrored his smile, and Erik reached his hands around her waist, pulling her to him.

"I…just realized that I am looking forward to our new life together, Christine. One more night in this place is all I have to hold on to. After tomorrow, I will never look back." Erik knew in his heart his words were true. Christine nodded.

"Well you two, we will finish loading your carriage tonight, and will come for you at sunset tomorrow," Madam Giry informed the couple. Meg and Madam Giry said their goodbyes, and continued to travel the lake.

"One day, I hope to find love like that…," Meg said wistfully, and with a touch of jealousy.

"You will, my dear. Never doubt it!" Madam Giry said hugging her daughter tightly. "After all, I found your father…What in good gracious!" Madam Giry exclaimed suddenly. Meg turned to see what her mother was talking about. There was a man waiting for them, near the platform where they docked their gondola…

My style is begging me to end the chapter here, but just for **Son Kat**, I'm going on. :)

"Who are you? What do you what with us?" Madam Giry called out shrilly. She couldn't make out much of the man's features in the dark, but she saw him rise from his sitting position. His profile still in darkness, the man bowed low.

"Madam Giry, Mademoiselle Giry, always a pleasure…" Raoul de Chagny said, with a slight smile playing on his lips.

* * *

Madam Giry stared at Raoul in horror. "So you mean that every time I have come down here to the depths of the Opera House, someone has followed me? I have led them to him…What are we going to do? How much time do we have?" Madam Giry was starting to let the panic in her heartspread to her voice. After all their planning, everything was meaningless. Christine and Erik would be caught. Madam Giry put her head in her hands. 

"Calm down,Madam. I know that the situation seems hopeless, but it is far from it. It is still three o'clock in the afternoon. We have roughly four hours left before nightfall. Christine and the Phantom must not be discovered; Andre is mad: he intends to shoot to kill. We simply must accelerate your plans…" Raoul touched Madam Giry's shoulder. She looked up at him, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Why are you doing this, Raoul? Why do you risk everything to save a life that you hate, and with cause?"

"I do this because I love Christine, Madam, no matter who she gives her heart to. I don't want to see her hurt in anyway. But let me explain something to you. If, for one second, it appears that Christine won't make it out of this labyrinth, I am prepared to do what I need to ensure her safety. If it means turning the Phantom over, I will. Don't think that I won't." Raoul's eyes were cold and calculating. Madam Giry shivered.

"What do we do now?" Meg asked in a small voice, her arms hugging her body.

"You and your mother continue up this path. Gather what things you will need for a few days from the Opera House; I don't anticipate you being able to return right away. Go and secure the carriage that you have been loading. Wait there until night fall. I will go to Christine and…the Phantom, and explain everything. They will meet you…be safe, and silent, ladies. The odds are against us, but perhaps we can pull this off…" Raoul spoke powerfully and confidently. Madam Giry nodded.

"Good luck, Vicomte. I fear you will need it…"

"Be safe, Madam…and remember what I have said…"

Madam Giry and Meg hurried up the path. Raoul turned and entered the boat.

_Here comes the fun part_, he thought sardonically.


	11. Point of no return

**Chapter 11**

**Point of no return**

**Author's note**: Well, boys and girls, this is it: the last chapter. I feel so sad that my story has come to an end. I just don't want to drag it on and lose the feeling that I think my story has: romance, intrigue, and a little humor. I will think long and hard about doing a sequel: it will depend on two things. One: that I come up with a good idea (I already have a few swirling around, see if you can spot them in this chapter…) and Two: I get some feedback from you guys. I just wanted to say that I have enjoyed every minute of writing, and I appreciate and respect everyone who has read and reviewed. Your opinions of my writings have made it better. Until next time!

To **Mystery Ghost**: Hello! I have missed your thorough reviews tremendously, my friend. Thank you for your compliments; it means a lot to me that you like my story. "No One Would Listen" is indeed to the tune of "Learn to be Lonely". It is a deleted scene that takes place some time before _Don Juan_; the Phantom's miniature stage is in the background in one of the shots, and it displays the stage style (flames and such) and Christine as Aminta…I don't know how it would have fit in with the movie, but I truly believe that they took it out because so many people would have thought that Christine did in fact need to end up with the Phantom; it's a touching scene that is worth going out and buying the DVD…

_Disclaimer: As my reviewer **evilspoofauthor1Sven **pointed out to me, I own the PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!..cough dvd…LOL!_

**PS**-Christine sings a little sniplet of a song from Evanescence "Taking Over Me"

And now, on with the finale…

* * *

Andre was sitting nervously at his desk. He was looking at his pocket watch, and then looking at the door. _He's late_, he thought. _Why is he always late? Bad for business_…Just then Andre heard the turn of a key in the lock of the door, and Firmin made his way in.

"Firmin! You are late! We have important business to take care of!" Andre said, putting on an air of importance.

"Oh, do shut up Andre. You're so tense and jumpy that anything would set you off. Calm down, man, what we're about to do is not physics. We are simply going to end the problem that has been plaguing us this past year! No more Ghost! We can run the theater as it was meant to be run…and we will not have to share it with a murderous specter." Firmin calmly took his seat next to Andre, and kicked his heels up.

"Tonight, at sunset, his reign will truly end!" Firmin threw back his head in laughter. Andre stared a moment, wondering if his partner had gone insane, when Firmin's head rose to look at Andre. Andre gave a weak laugh.

"I'm just more nervous about this than you…so many things could go wrong, Firmin. We literally can't afford another disaster. We are at our budget's end…If we can't get a guarantee tonight that the Phantom is truly gone from us, then I'm leaving this business! I'll follow Lefevre to Australia! I'll go back to scrap metal!"

"I thought he went to Frankfurt…" Firmin said in confusion.

"Oh never mind…" Andre turned his attention to the past due bills collecting on his desk. Even with the Vicomte's money they were falling desperately behind. Firmin followed his gaze, then gasped.

"What?" Andre didn't even bother to look at his partner.

"Our finances, Andre…they could be solved! I don't suppose our Opera Ghost kept his considerable salary in banks…there could be a fortune beneath the Opera Populaire. Our problems would be solved two-fold!" Firmin was talking excitedly, tugging at the ends of his generous mustache.

"The Phantom's fortune…I like the sound of that!" Andre agreed. Firmin turned to look at the tall clock in the corner.

"In a few short hours, we will have the Phantom, and the Phantom's fortune…come Andre, let us go and make sure all the preparations are ready." The two men exited their office, excited and hopeful. This night would change their lives for the better…or for the worse.

* * *

Raoul was trying to decide just why in the Hell he was making his way down a dark, murky, smelly lake in a moldy, dusty, damp boat. He hated to think of himself as fastidious, but he cared about his appearance, and therefore did not want to find himself surrounded by things that would hamper his impeccable style. He hated this underground portion of the Opera House, and he couldn't understand how Christine could have lived here for the past few weeks…it was disgusting! Raoul turned his thoughts away from his discomfort to think about what he was about to do. He knew that this reunion with Christine and…the Phantom was not going to be pleasant. He had no rapier; he merely had a small knife in his belt. That would not nearly be enough to help him if the Phantom Punjabbed him before he could open his mouth to speak…_Perhaps I have not thought this through enough_, Raoul thought nervously. He hated the Phantom; more than he hated any living thing, but there was one thing he could not deny: the Phantom was simply more physically powerful than he was. The Phantom was taller, leaner, and stronger than Raoul was; there was little denying that. There was also the fact that the Phantom had killed two people from the Opera House, with little or no remorse. Raoul had barely been fox or deer hunting in his life; he could not see himself taking the life of someone else, no matter what.

As Raoul started getting nearer to the entrance to the Phantom's lair, he began to hear a strange noise that took the place of the silence that he was just getting use to. Raoul strained his ears to listen more closely…it was an organ! And it was playing such music that Angels might weep to hear it! He remembered Christine saying that the Phantom was an artistic genius in more than just his voice, but this was the first time Raoul had ever heard it…Christine…what had she said about the Phantom and his music? **But his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound; in that night there was music in my mind…and through music, my soul began to soar…**Raoul now understood exactly what she meant. He was captivated and horrified at the same time. _How can such a monster be capable of such a beautiful thing?_ Raoul thought in fascination. _It really is too bad that his genius had turned to madness…this man could have composed operas to bring the whole city of Paris to her knees…_Raoul shook his head, and realized that he was almost to the bend that would bring the lair into view. He stopped the boat, and quickly straightened his clothing and smoothed his hair. If he was going to face his rival, he would go with the dignity and glory of a Vicomte. Setting his shoulders, he pushed the boat around the final bend, and the Phantom's lair came into view.

* * *

Erik played furiously at his organ, his thoughts centered on his life at the Opera House. This place, this cold and unforgiving lair, had been his only home, his only refuge for most of his life…and now, in a matter of hours, he would be leaving it. He would truly no longer be the Phantom of the Opera, or the Opera Ghost…he would become Erik Massenet. He smiled at the name…it would be a fictional name, true, but it was to be _his_ name. And soon, Christine…would become Christine Massenet…his mind shivered at the thought of his impending marriage. Once they left Paris, when should he ask about going to a priest? Would she want more time? His mind traveled to more…sinful thoughts. They had not been intimate yet; had not felt their bodies uniting as their souls had already done…Erik did not want to press it, but he looked forward to his wedding night more than anything in his life. But when the thrill of his wedding night flooded his soul, the jumbled thoughts that were never welcomed pressed against his mind: his pessimistic, bitter side. What if they had children, and he passed on his cursed deformity? Erik knew that his life had been made harder by the absence of love and compassion, and he knew that his children would never be denied that…but Erik also knew of the cold, unfeeling touch that the world had, and children with deformities would be ridiculed and shamed…Erik stopped playing a moment, lost in his thoughts…Wait. What was that noise? It sounded as though a boat was coming toward the lair…but surely Madam Giry would not have returned so soon…That left one option. Erik felt his insides grow cold and hard. They had been discovered! The mob was here, to tear him away from Christine!

Erik rose so suddenly from his bench that it crashed to the floor. Christine heard the noise, and looked up from the bedroom area.

"Erik what's wrong?" she asked in alarm.

"There's someone here! Quick, go to the alcove I showed you, and don't come out, no matter what happens!" Erik hissed at Christine, the fear evident in his voice. Christine yelped in surprise at his tone, and without a word, hurried to the alcove that Erik had indicated. This was the place where Erik himself had hidden, and she curled up in a ball in the corner. After seeing that Christine was completely hidden, Erik went to his bedroom chamber and reached under the bed, removing his Punjab lasso and a revolver. He touched a hand to his face, to make sure that his mask was still perfectly in place. With a whirl of his cloak, Erik descended to the lower levels of his lair, near the waters edge. There, he waited in the darkness. Erik smiled, to reassure himself. It looked as if he wouldn't be giving up the mantle of Phantom quite yet after all…

* * *

As Raoul turned the corner to see the lair, the first thing that he noticed was that it appeared to be empty. He strained his eyes, trying to see into the darkness and shadows that nestled between the light of the flickering candles. _This could be bad_, Raoul thought. _Best to announce my presence now_…

"Phantom! This is the Vicomte de Chagny! I know you are there, in the darkness, as you always are. Show yourself! I come with urg-" Raoul never finished his sentence. Suddenly, Raoul felt a sudden pressure against his body, and found himself thrown overboard into the murky water. He opened his eyes in reflex, and widen them in shock when he saw the Phantom in the water as well, the lasso desparately trying to reach his neck. Raoul's head broke water.

"Stop, damn you, stop! I have come to help you…," Raoul managed to say, just before the Phantom grabbed him by his shoulders and pushed him down into the water. Raoul lashed out with his feet, landing a blow right at the knees. The Phantom immediately turned Raoul loose, and, taking advantage of the Phantom's distracted disposition, Raoul landed a kick right at his chest. The Phantom's head broke water, and he howled in pain.

"You bastard! You should not have come here, for I will finish what I started!" The Phantom growled as he struggled to stand.

Raoul reached the shore. He pulled himself up, and turned to stare at the Phantom, who was wheezing slightly and still knee deep in water.

"Here me out, you demon! As much as I would love to see you dead and gone from existence, I have come to warn you! Now, will you listen to me, or do we end this and I simply walk out of here with Christine?" Raoul felt as defiant as he had ever felt in his life. The adrenaline in his body was filling him with hope, and he knew that at this moment, he could take on the Phantom. He could take on the world!

At Christine's name, the Phantom's face filled with rage, and he jumped the remaining distance to the shore. He towered over Raoul, and stared at him, face to face.

"Don't think that I don't know the real reason why you're here, Vicomte. You just said it. Christine is NOT leaving my side again. And what could you possible have to say that I'd want to hear? You are a weakling, Vicomte. You have no true sense of power…"

"Oh and I suppose that killing people is just the thing that I need to get that type of power! And maybe I'll kidnap a girl while I'm at it too!" At these words the Phantom roared. He snapped off a roundhouse blow to Raoul's head, but Raoul side stepped, and the Phantom missed.

"You know nothing of me! Who are you to judge me? All the world judges me!" The Phantom started gasping a little for air.

"What's wrong, Monsieur, can't take a little exercise?" Raoul taunted. The Phantom took a step back, his hand to his heaving chest. Finally, he looked up at Raoul, hatred burning in his eyes.

"What are you doing in my home, Vicomte?"

"Ah, well, now it appears that you will be a little more civilized. I have come to offer my assistance; however painful that may be for me…did you call this your 'home', Monsieur? It could do with a little work…," Raoul couldn't resist that last stab at the Phantom's ego. The Phantom appeared to be weakened, so Raoul continued.

"As you may already now, Andre and Firmin are very anxious to rid themselves of you, dear Phantom. Imagine that? But what you don't know is that in mere hours they and a riotous group will invade the catacombs of the theater. Not tomorrow, as planned, but tonight. And since you have no concern in regards to Christine, I have come to ensure that she escapes this Hell hole." Raoul felt the anger in him swell. He stared at the Phantom, stared at the face that he knew was as ugly as sin behind the mask, and suddenly felt himself snap. All gentleman-like behavior fled from him. He balled his hands into fists.

"You took her from me! I would have given her anything; and instead she chose you! You, a monster!" Raoul spoke with a passion that he had not known he possessed. The Phantom answered in a weak, soften voice.

"And I suppose that you first saw her as a chorus girl working in the Opera, hmmm. Or perhaps earlier, as a penniless orphan who had no one in the world…or perhaps you saw her at the same time everyone else did, Monsieur…when she performed in the gala that made her a primma donna…Do you love her beauty, Vicomte? Or her voice? You care nothing for her as I do…I see her soul, Vicomte, and it is a twin of mine…this monster…" the Phantom echoed Christine's earlier words to him. "Or perhaps you just can't handle the thought of rejection, Vicomte? I am beyond this petty argument…and I don't believe a word that you have said."

"Are you calling me a liar, Monsieur?" Raoul felt the anger in him as a growl in his throat.

"Why yes, Vicomte, I am…" Raoul yelled out a curse as he threw himself on the Phantom. What came as a surprise was that the Phantom easily picked him up and flipped him on his back. What had happened to the weakened state the Phantom was in? _It was a ploy!_ His mind screamed, and all too late…Raoul found himself staring at the end of a revolver.

"You'll not want to do that again, dear Vicomte," the Phantom said, all weakness gone from his voice. He pointed the gun at Raoul almost lazily.

"Look…I'm serious about Andre and Firmin…you must get Christine out of here…they mean to kill you, they could hurt her…," Raoul pleaded, causing the Phantom's eyes to narrow.

"You mean this as truth, then? You don't intend to take Christine from me?" the Phantom leaned over, and stared straight into Raoul's eyes. He flinched, but nodded.

"I only care for her safety…she would not go with me willingly…I know this now…" The Phantom looked at Raoul a moment more, and slowly lowered the gun.

"Talk," the Phantom commanded in a strong voice, and Raoul found himself telling him everything about his conversation with Andre, as well as Madam Giry.

The Phantom was silent for a long moment. He rose suddenly, and walked to a portion of his lair. He lifted a curtain, and stepped out with Christine, holding her hand. When Christine saw Raoul, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Raoul!" she exclaimed, and then turning her eyes to the Phantom's. "And you…did not…hurt him?" she asked timidly, and the Phantom nodded.

"Not without a lack of trying…" the Phantom shrugged, and turned to face Christine in seriousness. "The Vicomte has disturbing news, my dear. We must leave at once. Go into the bedroom, and put on some of my clothes; a dress will but hamper you. Go, and hurry!" the Phantom's voice when talking to Christine was a completely different than how he had spoken to Raoul just moments ago. His voice held a sense of authority and urgency, but also of worry…and love? Raoul shook his head in disbelief. The Phantom, the monster, truly loved Christine. _This changes nothing_…the voice inside his head told him. Raoul looked at the Phantom.

"We must leave the boat here, Phantom. If they see it on the other side of the lake, they will know that you have escaped…we must swim."

The Phantom thought for a moment. When Christine re-emerged a moment later, looking rather dashing in men's clothing, the Phantom spoke…

"My dear, how well can you swim?"

* * *

Erik was up to his neck in the filthy water of his lake. _That's right_, he thought fiercely, _his lake, his lair, his catacombs, his opera house! _The sly voice in his head perked up. And_ it's your fault that Christine's in danger, and you had to accept the Vicomte's help…_Erik shook his head slightly, and concentrated on the image of Christine's back as she swam across the lake. The Vicomte was in the lead, and Christine insisted on being between them. Erik was fine with this arrangement. He could watch them both.

"Christine, are you all right? Still able to make it?" Erik asked, the concern apparent.

"I'm fine, Angel…just a little tired…" Christine gasped out an answer. Erik fell silent. He contemplated his next move. He would have to get to the stables from the catacombs, but he didn't want to risk taking Christine with him…hadn't he risked her life enough? As much as it pained him, he would have to let her go with the Vicomte. _If he takes her, I will hunt him down and damn him to the fires of Hell! Hell hath no fury compared to my own_…Erik thought, smirking slightly to himself. He looked upjust in time see Christine dip below the water's edge. With a cry, Erik dove under the water. The water was murking, and it was so hard to see…wait! A light, a small gleam…he reached out and found Christine's hand…he surfaced quickly, and Christine gasped and choked out the water in her lungs.

"Christine! Are you all right!" the Vicomte called back, starting to swim towards them.

"Help me with her," Erik said gruffly.

The Vicomte and Erik held her gently for a moment as she coughed and sputtered. Christine reached for Erik. She gave him a weak smile.

"Sorry 'bout that…," she said sheepishly.

"Oh Christine…reach behind me, and hang on to my neck. No more swimming for you!" Erik reached forward, and guided Christine's hands to his neck. His chest was beginning to burn, partly from the scare and lack of oxygen of just now, and partly because of the blasted Vicomte's kick. He motioned for the said Vicomte to continue. Luckily, the rest of the journey passed uneventfully, and they found themselves on the ledge on theother side of the lake.

Erik shook out the water from his body as the Vicomte and Christine did the same. He glanced at Christine.

"My dear, I am going to head straight for the stables from here. Please, go with the Vicomte and make sure that Madam Giry and Meg made it to the stable. You can't come with me, Angel…" Erik said this painfully, and did not look at the Vicomte, who was staring at him in surprise. Erik's fierceness returned, and he caught the Vicomte's look.

"If you as so much think about taking her away, so help me I'll-," he growled, taking a few steps toward the Vicomte. The Vicomte held his ground however, and Christine reached out to touch his arm.

"I'm not going anywhere. I love you! You can't just leave me here…what if we are parted forever? I'm going with you!" Christine flew into Erik's arms, tears pouring down her face. Erik looked at the Vicomte sharply, who turned away.

"Shhh, my angel, it's not goodbye…it's better this way…we will be together soon, I promise…" Erik stroked her hair, murmuring encouraging words to her.

"**I believe in you…I'd give up everything just to find you…I have to be with you…to live, to breathe, you're taking over me**!" Christine sang softly under her breath, just for Erik to hear. He smiled into her hair.

"**Let your soul take you where you long to be…only then, can you belong…to me**," Erik murmured. She pulled away, and he dried her tears. He kissed her delicately on the forehead.

"Don't worry Christine. We will be reunited…" Erik said softly. His eyes tracked hers as she nodded. She stepped away from Erik, and went slowly up the stairs. The Vicomte started to follow.

"Take care of her…" Erik said suddenly in the silence, all threat gone from his voice. The Vicomte nodded in understanding, and turned to follow Christine. Erik was alone, in the darkness.

He started to walk, for the last time, through his catacombs…

* * *

Christine and Raoul made their way through the mirror and into Christine's old dressing room. They were both out of breath, and stayed a moment to catch it. Christine looked at Raoul.

"Let's go to an unused bedroom…we can try and get a little dry, so as not to leave a trail," Christine whispered. Raoul nodded, and peered out of the door. The hallway was clear, so he motioned her forward. She darted across the hallway and into an empty bedroom. Raoul followed, and closed the door the dressing room door. He made to walk across the hall when he heard footsteps. He dove into the empty bedroom, and locked the door, motioning to Christine to keep quiet. They soon heard voices approaching.

"Oh Firmin, I am so excited! Let's go, let's go! We can collect the Phantom and the Phantom's fortune…" The voice became muffled as the sound of a door opening and shutting was heard. Raoul breathed a sigh of relief, and Christine whispered, "Phantom's fortune? What on Earth do they mean?" Christine reached for the bed and drew the large blanket around her, attempting to dry herself. She threw the blanket to Raoul.

"Let's go. We haven't got any time to waste…" Christine turned to leave the room, when Raoul stopped her.

"Christine, I might not get another chance to say this…if you ever need anything, please, let me know. I will do whatever I can for you…even if it means accepting that you love the Phantom…" Raoul looked at his feet the whole time. Christine reached up and touched his hand.

"You mayhave very well saved my life today, Raoul, and the life of the man I love…I will always care for you, Raoul, and it is _I_ that should be offering my services, not you. They may not be much, but it's all I can offer you. Wait!" Christine's smile brightened. "I can offer you my undying friendship…what do you say?" She held out her hand. Raoul smiled, and shook it.

"It's a deal, Christine…now, let's go and find Madam Giry." Raoul felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He could still have Christine in his life…he thought briefly about the year he had had…he had found love, and lost it, only to gain it back in a different form…the man he thought hadn't existed turned into his biggest rival…he had learned so much from this little Opera House. As he followed Christine down the hall, he couldn't help but smile. It had all started when Christine, at such a young age, told him about Little Lotte and the Angel of Music…

* * *

Erik made his way swiftly and silently through the halls of the catacombs. He felt right at home in the darkness, and knew right where he was. He would be at the stables in a matter of minutes…There! The moon shown brightly through a small skylight; the stable would just be around this bend. Erik cautiously approached the opening, and peered out. There was the carriage…he could make out two forms in the carriage itself, and he knew them to be Meg and Madam Giry. Confidently, he made his way out of the passage.

"Whhhoose there?" a slurred voice spoke out in the shadows. A stable guard appeared, drunk, holding a bottle of some concoction as he stumbled forward. Erik narrowed his eyes. One hand held a bottle, and the other held a pistol. How could he have been so careless! Erik's eyes moved wildly, trying to find a weapon he could use against the guard.

"Doon't movvve or I'll shoot you, you cur!" the guard exclaimed, holding up the weapon with a wobbly hand. Erik could think of only one thing to do. He drew himself up to his full height, and said, in a tone that rang out to the guard's ears and no further:

"Ignorant fool! I am the Phantom of the Opera! I cannot be defeated!" The guard started trembling.

"Tttthe Phantom of the Opera!" the guard turned to run when he suddenly fell with a thud to the ground. Erik looked up to see the Vicomte standing there with a small bucket in his hand.

"Looks like he needed to take a little nap…"the Vicomtesmiled, and stepped aside. Christine ran forward and into Erik's arms. He held her above the ground for a moment, then set her down gently. He kissed her deeply, and saw stars. Christine smiled into his mouth.

"Go, my dear. Madam Giry and Meg already are waiting…" Erik said reluctantly. Christine nodded, and turned to the Vicomte.

"Thank you Raoul…for everything."

Christine hurried away, leaving Erik and the Vicomte alone. Erik looked at the man that he hated, and extended his hand. The Vicomte hesitantly took it. They shook, silent and somber.

"Thank you, Vicomte." Erik said softly. He turned to go.

"I still hate you, you demon!" the Vicomte called. Erik smiled

"That's one thing that we have in common."

With that, Erik hurried forward and took the reins of the carriage. Madam Giry had joined him in the driver's chair. Christine waved to Raoul as the carriage went off into the night.

* * *

Raoul watched the carriage drive off. He looked at the guard at his feet. He was starting to wake up.

"Ow, my head…must've been all those drinks…" His eyes went wide when he saw Raoul. He scrambled to his feet.

"Vicomte de Chagny! You won't believe it, Monsieur! I saw him! The Phantom of the Opera! He was here…" the guard's voice traveled off as Raoul began to laugh.

"The Phantom is a fable. Believe me, there is no Phantom of the Opera…"

* * *

Andre and Firmin, along with 3 other men, emerged from the lake to find themselves in the Phantom's lair. They rose from the water, anxiously, and began looking around. Andre approached Firmin.

"He's not here, Firmin. You promised he would be!" Andre hissed, his face bright red.

"Calm down, the men have not searched everywhere. There may be no Phantom, but there still may be money down here." Firmin spoke rationally and firmly. They waited at the edge of the lake, hoping that the men would turn up something in there search…

Nothing. Nothing was exactly what they found. The Phantom had left plenty of useless junk, but no money. Andre finally snapped.

"That's it! This Ghost has taken everything from me! Every hope, every opportunity…I've had enough! No Phantom…No Phantom's fortune…I give up!" Andre threw his hands in the air and looked at Firmin.

"I agree…" Firmin said reluctantly. "Let's go…" The men started talking excitedly. Treasure? Down here? Firmin overheard them, and said sharply: "Don't you see? We've been duped again! There is no gold…"

Everyone loaded into the boat. Firmin and Andre shared but one thought as they made their way back to the Opera House main level: they needed to get out of this business, and fast!

They didn't see the greedy glint in their parties' eyes…

* * *

"How much longer is it, Marie?" Erik asked, the wind whipping his cloak about him. He drove faster than he meant to, but he wanted to put as much distance between them and the Opera House as possible.

"The road is still a bit further, Erik. We will be there shortly. Have patience." Madam Giry's voice was soothing. Erik found it disheartening. He glanced behind them at the empty road.

"Are you sure no one is following us?"

"Erik! You've looked a dozen times. No one is there but the wind!"

"Well, it would do us no good at all to escape from them only to lead them to where they can find us later!" Erik spoke harshly, and then regretted it. "I'm sorry Marie, I'm just a little…nervous. This will be a new life for me. How will I know how to live it? I only know how to act like the Opera Ghost. I don't know how to act like Erik! The Opera House is all I've known…you protected me from the world, Marie, and now I find myself thrown into it! I feel exposed, and alone, and…scared. I feel scared Marie!" Erik finally admitted to himself what he had been feeling all along. He was terrified of the idea of being a husband, a father. Someone else would be depending on him, everyday. He would be the head of a family; he would be wanted and loved. All these feelings were completely alien to him.

"What if I'm a bad husband? What if Christine realizes that she has made a mistake, and wants to go back? I can't handle that, Marie…I can't live without her…" He looked at Marie, shame on his face. She smiled.

"My dear, everyone feels this way, not just you alone. I felt the same on my wedding day. But once you say the words that you have felt inside your heart for so long, it just will feel…right. Don't worry about your future with Christine. It won't be perfect, but then nothing is."

"Thanks, Marie…I don't think that I have ever told you this…but you're the closest I have ever had to a mother…thank you." Madam Giry reached out and hugged him.

They drove in silence the rest of the way.

* * *

A while later, the small carriage approached a darkened house. Erik immediately understood why Marie had chosen this house. It was a moderate size, out of the way, and it would be perfect for his new start at life. He grinned at Christine, who was staring in awe.

"This is…our house? Our home?" Erik reached Christine and picked her up, cradling her in his arms.

"I have to take you over the threshold, my dear," Erik's eyes were sparkling in excitement. His excitement was contagious, and Christine began to feel her heart race.

"The final threshold," she murmured softly. Christine met Erik's eyes; she had tears forming.

They entered the house without any pomp and circumstance. Erik placed Christine gently on the ground. Christine immediately started to run about her new surroundings.

"Oh, Erik, the kitchen is beautiful, and stocked with food; there's a beautiful dining room; oh and look, a parlor…Erik come quick!" Christine exclaimed breathlessly.

Erik rushed to her side in alarm. He peered into the darkened room Christine indicated when Christine lit a candle. He was looking into his music room. It had a large piano in the far right corner. His violin was propped against a music stand…and his music was everywhere, cataloged and placed in bookshelves! Erik was speechless. He turned to look at Madam Giry.

"I snuck down here, and did a little of the unpacking myself…do you like it, Erik?" Madam Giry smiled. Erik touched her arm.

"Words can't express, Marie. I'll have to compose something."

The four escapees were tired and worn from worry and fatigue, and they all decided to retire for the night and explore later in the morning. After a long and good rest, Erik heard a carriage pull up to his drive. Erik sprang from bed, and pulled on his shirt. He rushed downstairs and peered out the window. An old man was walking up the drive. Erik opened the door before the man could knock.

"Can I help you, good Monsieur?" Erik said, in a polite but cold voice.

"Ah, I am sorry to disturb you…I thought that the house would be empty…" the old man wheezed in response. Erik took a closer look at his unwelcome guest and noticed his manner of dress. His eyes widened.

"Pardon me, Monsieur, but are you not a priest? What are you doing here?" Erik said, the surprise he felt showing in his voice.

"Erik, what's going on…Father Namera! What a pleasure! Have you come to bless the house?" Madam Giry had appeared behind Erik, and her disposition brightened when she saw the priest. She shrugged at Erik, who looked at her in astonishment.

"I did indeed, Madam Giry, but I was told to expect it empty!" the old man replied with a bit of indignation.

"Ah well, our plans have changed. This is Erik Massenet; he is the new owner of the house, along with his fiancé. My daughter and I are merely visiting…" Madam Giry explained. She turned to Erik and said quietly, "You may not be religious, but I am! I was not about to let you live in a house that had not been properly blessed! I just wasn't going to mention it…" Madam Giry trailed off as Erik just nodded at her, letting her know everything was fine. He stood a little straighter as he had a brilliant idea.

Erik smiled. "My dear Father, could we perhaps persuade you to perform another of your priestly duties…" Erik lead Father Namera into the house.

* * *

Christine Daae married Erik Massenet that morning, in the small garden of their new home. Madam Giry and Meg Giry stood as attendants and witnesses; Madam Giry, being a mother to both, gave her official blessing on the union. Father Namera said the pronouncement words, and Erik and Christine shared a passionate kiss as a symbol of their union. The day was spent in music and merriment; there were no troubles, no worries, and no cares. As the night approached, Madam Giry and Meg retired to their bedrooms early. Erik and Christine stood alone, out on their balcony in their room.

"There's no turning back now…" Erik whispered, holding onto Christine tightly, her back facing into his chest.

"There never was a chance of that…" Christine reached her hand up to touch her husband's face. She turned to face him, her body still held tightly by his.

"Ours is a love to be treasured, Christine…that of a beauty, and a beast…"

"No, Erik…that of an Angel and an orphan," Christine smiled up at him, tears sparkling her brown eyes. Erik kissed her, the sweetest, most tender of all kisses, and she felt as though she and Erik were the only people in the world. He released her, and held her gaze. "What about a chorus girl and a Phantom? Or a primma donna and an Opera Ghost?"

"Oh Erik! It's not like someone's going to write down our fantastic love affair…"

"Of course they will! And the whole world will know of my love for you…"Erik smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes. His eyes…they had a very mischievous gleam to them. He scooped Christine up from the floor of the balcony, and carried her toward their bedroom.

"Now, my dear, we must officially consummate our marriage. Ready, love?" Erik tried to sound official, but the longing and desire was there in his eyes and voice. Christine laughed, musical and beautiful to Erik's ears.

"More than you are!" And with that, Christine and Erik entered their bedroom locked in a loving embrace…and later that night, a lover's embrace.

The End

* * *

**Note:** I got Erik's last name Massenet from a French composer who died in the 1920s. He wrote many operas and lived during the time period that the Phantom of the Opera is set in, so I thought it would be appropriate. :) 


End file.
